


Small Spaces

by virtualpersonal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Schmoop, Wincest - Freeform, rom com
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:55:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24045502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualpersonal/pseuds/virtualpersonal
Summary: Circumstances keep getting the boys stuck in close quarters, forcing each to face feelings they'd rather deny. Mostly light, but with a dash of angst.(transferred 2009 fic to Aol by request)
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester
Comments: 11
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Co-written with Deans_Fetish

Dean was cursing up a storm, and with good damned reason. They’d driven hundreds of miles chasing after some specially built compass that was supposed to detect demon presence, then their boat had capsized as they rowed across a cold river to get to the small island of land in the middle of the rushing water… and then some other hunters had caught up with them. And that was why they were in the small shack on the island, cold, wet, and freakin’ tied together while the other hunters had taken off with _their_ compass. 

He had his hands bound behind his back and was lying right on top of Sam. Sam’s arms were around him, with his wrists bound together in a forced hug, and they’d been rolled in some sort of tarp, though their heads were free of the covering. Ha ha, stupid hunters and their jokes. So here they were, trying to roll out from under the material, and then Sam would have to somehow work the pen knife out of Dean’s back pocket and work on the ropes. 

“Dude... roll left,” he said frustrated by the fact Sam was going the other way. 

Sam clenched his jaw and glared at his brother, "I _am_ rolling left. My left." Sam rolled and only managed to end up with Dean's weight on top of him again. "Yeah, bright idea, jerk." Sam huffed. 

"Here, what if I..." Sam pressed his lips together, squeezed his eyes closed in concentration and tried to wiggle himself lower, get his hands closer to Dean's pocket, digits searching, touching, sliding against the wet denim.

About to tell Sam they should do one thing at a time, like getting the fucking tarp off first, Dean was silenced by the unexpected reaction of his body to the movements of his brother under him. Giving a panicked strangled cry, he tried to roll them onto the side, but felt Sam's hands slide below his ass. "Hey... pocket's higher, jerk." 

Sam grit his teeth as his hands moved lower, one cupping Dean's ass, squeezing just under the pocket, making the wet denim give so that the pen knife would budge. "Can't....get...the knife..out of wet denim!" As soon as Sam squeezed his brother's ass, his eyes shot open and he released his hold quickly. "Uh, maybe there's another way to do this.." Sam suggested, looking away from his brother's face, as he cleared his throat.

His breaths were coming hot and fast as Dean struggled to regain his control over his body. Sammy wasn't helping, not even a little with the squeezing and the moving. "Well spit it out," he said through gritted teeth, knowing it wasn't Sam's fault his body was being freaky. Sam probably had no clue. 

Sam was busy trying not to think about the way he had nearly moaned when he squeezed his brother's, yes, his _brother's_ ass, (What the hell was THAT about!?) so when Dean snapped at him, he could only turn his head and stare at him with wide eyes. "Huh?"

"Your idea, what is it?" Impatience was thick in Dean's voice, only because he wanted to get out of the situation before his brother caught on to the fact that every one of his little squirming movements was sending blood surging straight to Dean's cock. "And stop moving around." Dean started to try to roll onto his back, but it was real clear there was no way they'd get out of this that way. Both of their hands were tied behind Dean's back, and if pressed between the weight of their bodies and the ground, they'd be useless. 

Sam arched his neck to look behind them, before looking back at his brother. "See that rough stone edges on the mantel? The tarp isn't all that thick, if we can get over there, maybe we can rub against it and get this thing to rip more. Worth a shot, right?" 

Sam didn't wait for an answer as he started to pull his legs up as best he could and kick at the tarp, trying for a little more wiggle room. Once he had enough to plant his feet on the floor slightly, he arched his back, inching them slowly toward the mantel, scooting across the floor. He looked up at his brother panting, "You know, helping instead of just coming along for the ride would be good here."

Ride... problem was Dean wanted to show him how he could damn well ride. Sonovabitch... his entire body was clamoring to do just that, and he was wishing he had a warm, willing woman under him... only that wasn't the thought that kept invading his mind. Reality kept invading it... his brother... a guy... and that reality shouldn't be making his dick hard and thick, making his heart pound so loud he could barely hear.

"Okay... alright. Let's move." One second later, he snapped. "Stop moving!" 

Sam was panting, sweat beaded his brow, the tarp was made of some sort of plastic and was trapping their body heat making it extremely hot, even with the cool weather outside. "Wha? What's wrong?" Sam asked him. _Please don't say you feel anything, please don't say you feel anything._

The movement, and that is all Sam was willing to believe it was, movement and the warmth of a body above him, was making his body react and he sure didn't want Dean asking him why he had a semi hard on. He'd rather die right there of starvation than hear that asked of him by his brother.

Dean's tortured gaze clashed with Sam's innocent doe eyes. Fuck. "Nothing. You're right... let's..." Blowing out another hot breath, Dean started to work with Sam as they inched toward the fireplace. Every movement, ever slide of Sam's body against wet rough jeans squeezing him too tight already, made him a little more aroused, a little harder. Maybe he could have taken that, maybe he could just have put it down to the friction, but his sudden strange need to taste the soft exposed skin of Sam's throat was freaking him out. "Oh God..." his mouth bumped against Sam's ear. 

Sam stilled, laid there panting in breaths as he closed his eyes, bit his lip. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Dean felt it. Felt his arousal that had been getting continually worse as they moved and bumped and ground their way across the floor. "Hmm?" Sam asked, his eyes still closed, straight white teeth biting his lip so hard, the color drained from the tender flesh. 

He hadn't meant for this to happen, had never even thought about his brother like this. Hell, the idea of thinking about a guy, was just... no fucking way! But, this was different, it was Dean and it was safe and... Good God, did he always smell like cologne even when they were sweating like pigs!?

"Not a thing," Dean grit out, making a last push to get to the fire place which had stones jutting out of the wall. Now that they were there, he was at a loss how to work this, how to freakin' rub against the stones without grinding himself into his brother. For one crazy moment, he thought about using it as a cover, an excuse... but yeah, no fucking way that would be cool. Trying to block his mind to the sensations flooding his body, trying to angle himself so his erection wasn't pressing too hard into Sam's thigh, he started to pulse toward the wall, in both a side to side and up and down movement hoping to catch the jagged edge of a rock. 

Feeling them hit against the wall, Sam opened his eyes and released his now reddened lip with a sigh. Okay, good, they could rub against the jagged rock, get free and he could pretend that his horrible experience had never happened. As Dean started to move, Sam copied his motions, doing the opposite at opposite times to try not to let his erection press against Dean. Okay, no problem, they could do this. 

And then it happened, somehow or another they wound up doing the same thing at the same time, in effect rutting against one another. Sam's breathing hitched as he squeezed his eyes closed and he tried to think of every severed head they had ever seen, every mangled body, tried to think about baseball, about old naked women, about monsters and demons and things that tore heads off small children, but dammit, it wasn't working. The only thing his mind seemed to want to focus on was the feel of Dean's body against his, the warmth seeping through his clothes, the tightness of his jeans against his arousal, his brother's muscled thigh against his groin and the damn scent of cologne or after shave or WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!? radiating off his brother in waves.

Dean's brain barely registered the fact they were practically dry humping when searing heat bolted through him, making him crazy with the thought of straddling Sam... having him naked and squirming under him. "Sammy, cut that out," he said, hoarsely, trying to prevent himself from seeking the friction he needed. It was hell... hell trying not to move... hell trying to accept the feelings sweeping over him... and hell, being stuck like that when his mind was telling him to get the fuck out of the situation.

Sam's eyes snapped open to look at his brother, lips parted, small pants of air escaping them. "Yeah, not working." Sam agreed. He took in a deep breath and glared at his brother, "What the hell? Did you bathe in cologne!? What is that? Fuck!" Sam turned his head away, hazel eyes darting around the room trying to find something else that would work, that they could use to get out of this mess with.

"What?" That came out of left field and had Dean trying to sniff himself. "I just have after shave on, one you got me... too much?" He couldn't smell it at all. Shrugging, but glad for the change in topic, he gave one more rough shove against the stone wall, and part of the tarp caught on its edge. They both realized it at the same time and rolled away, leaving the torn material behind.

Dean gave a triumphant "hell yeah," and steadied himself on top of Sam, uncomfortably aware that his erection was still there, but taking a little comfort in the fact that Sam didn't seem to be in any better condition. Touch a guy, that's what happened, he told himself, trying not to notice how soft Sam's lips looked, and how fucking sexy it was when he parted his lips and let his tongue dart out so quickly, you could miss it if you weren't so focused on it.

"Alright... alright Sam, can you get in my pocket?" His arms hurt like a sonovabitch, but he tried to guide Sam to his pocket to avoid another touch where no other man's hand belonged.

Sam nodded as he tried to work his hands to the pocket, Dean's hands guiding him, but still it wasn't as easy as it sounded. Sam closed his eyes, bit his lip, brows furrowed in concentration as his fingers fumbled to get the pen knife out of Dean's wet pocket.

"Dean, stop... shrinking away... from my fingers." Sam told him, "I can't get it if you keep doing..." Sam paused, bucked his hips forcing Dean's ass up into his hand, his fingers dipping into the pocket, pulling the knife free. "That!" he finished, as his eyes opened, a triumphant grin on his face. "Got it."

_That_ had brought Dean's cock into firm contact with the hard column of Sam's powerful thigh. _That_ had sent a powerful bolt of heat through Dean, making him crazy with the need to just... to fuck his brother into the ground. _That_ had almost pushed him over the edge, and Sam was smiling. How the fuck could he be smiling?

Choking down his feelings, he gave a nod. "Finish it. Get these fucking ropes off my wrist," as he raised his hands up as high as he could behind him, his chest pressed down harder against Sam and it was too difficult to keep his head and neck up. Next thing he knew, he had his face in the crook of Sam's neck and was offering advice, his mouth brushing against the soft skin of his brother's throat. What would Sam taste like? Would he even feel just one little lick?

Sam licked his lips as he nodded, started to work at cutting through the rope as hard to do as it was, and then his brother's face was against the crook of his neck, hot breath fanning sensitive skin, lips brushing against the column of his neck as Dean spoke to him in hushed tones as if murmuring words of love and not directions on how to get the pen knife at it's best angle, how to cut through the ropes the quickest way possible. 

The sound, the feelings, the heat of those lips, that voice, sent unexpected ripples of pleasure through Sam's body straight to his already hard cock, which twitched in response. Sam swallowed hard, clearing his throat as he lifted his chin slightly, lips set in a thin firm line. "I got it." he muttered, concentrating on the movement of his hands, his fingers and not the way Dean felt, smelled, sounded... no none of that.

When Sam's mouth slid up to his ear and he gave his status reports, Dean squeezed his eyes shut trying to deny the feelings flowing through him, trying to fight the need to shift his face and kiss the fucking daylights out of Sam until these feelings subsided. "Hurry," he said through gritted teeth, almost weeping with relief when Sam cut his wrists free and he tried to roll off. "Sonovabitch...." he'd forgotten Sam's arms were wrapped around him. "Arms up," he snapped, then shimmied down Sam's body, his eyes widening as his face pressed against Sam's arousal, before he quickly got off and sat up. Breathing hard, and avoiding Sam's eyes, he cut the ropes holding Sam’s wrists together and shot up, well away from his brother. 

Sam tensed as Dean shimmied down his body. _Oh God, did he have to do THAT!?_ Swallowing hard as Dean cut the ropes and jumped up away from him. Sam sighed and sat up, rubbing his wrists. "Thank God that's over," he muttered under his breath, looking at the floor, the walls, anywhere but at his brother's face. 

Pulling to his feet, Sam walked over to the small window and looked out. "You think we can find a way outta here, tonight?" He shivered slightly as the cold air seeped through his damp clothes now that they were no longer tied together in a plastic tarp.

"If those assholes didn't take our boat." Practically running out of the shack, Dean looked along the river bank and pointed. There it was, waiting for them. Nodding towards it, he headed over, trying hard not to think of the freaky thoughts and feelings that had gone through him over the past couple of hours when he'd been tied to Sam.

* * *

Dean stared at the computer screen. He couldn't fucking believe he was doing this, but anything was better than the constant suffering. That island incident hadn't been the only time he'd had these strong urges. It had been the first, but then things had gotten worse. Much worse...

*  
[A few weeks ago]

They'd been checking out an old mansion, searching for signs of a missing girl who'd been playing on its grounds. Then the big grandfather clock had announced midnight, and suddenly there were men in freaky dark robes everywhere. He and Sam had gone into hiding, opening the first door away from the sounds, and finding themselves in a closet that was so damned stuffed, there was barely enough room for the both of them.

"Shit! Could we find a smaller closet?" Sam hissed softly, trying to suck his stomach in, flattening his back against the wall to try to offer more room between them, only it didn't seem to be doing any good. Sam shifted his weight, tried to move his body away from Dean's side more toward the door, or against the wall. Something, anything. Only to wind up grinding against his brother.

"Dude! What the hell!? Tell me that's your gun in your pocket!" Sam whispered harshly, arms flat against the wall behind him as he continued to try to sink back away from his brother, hide his own body's responses. _Holy hell! What the fuck was going on with him anymore?_ Dean, he was always horny, it was nothing for him, Sam was sure it wasn't personal, but on his end... yeah, it was his brother that was exciting him. Causing his body to react this way, his dick to harden, his breathing to quicken, his heart to race. He was sick. This was wrong... so fucking wrong...

"Stop moving around," Dean ordered through clenched teeth, trying to keep his voice even despite the fact he barely had any control over his body. The instant Sam brushed against his chest and groin, all semblance of normality had fled. Just one touch of his brother's muscled body tight against him made Dean tense, made him want to press closer and see to the ache between his legs. His heart hammered at that crazy thought.

He had to get a hold of himself, he really did. This new semi-obsession with his brother was not only unhealthy, it was downright freaky. And he wasn't doing such a great job of hiding his predicament since Sam had called him on his erection. Dean started to try to adjust his position, when a sound from the other side of the door had him holding still, still up against Sam's lean frame. The danger outside the closet and inside spiked his adrenalin, intensifying his need at the worst fucking moment possible. 

Sam stilled at the sound outside the door, frowning at his brother. Get the attention off his own erection and onto Dean. Yeah, that was his plan. Especially now that they were both holding so damn still and smashed so damn close together he was sure Dean could feel his cock pulsing behind his zipper. _Fuck!_

"Dean," Sam whispered, leaning slightly forward, his mouth closer to Dean's ear so he could speak low and not be heard outside the door. "We have to do something. Seriously. We can't just stand here like this." Sam told him, before turning his head toward the door. "Count of three, I say we go for it." Sam told him.

"That's smart, let's see, ahhh ten guys," he turned his head more than he intended, accidentally brushing Sam's mouth with his. Soft and warm... that's how his brother's mouth felt, and God... the heat that light touch sent through his system. "On the count of three," he growled, knowing he had to get out of there. "One... two..."

*

[Now]

Yeah, that had been bad enough that he'd preferred getting beaten up to what would have happened if they'd stayed in that damned closet. Lifting his beer bottle, he took a long drink. Sam was still out on errands. He had time to do this without his brother nosing around. If he wanted to do this...

Fantasies R Us. Could a website have a cornier title? He'd come to this site over and over, read people's fantasies, read the testimonials on how they'd been fulfilled. Half the time he laughed at the things they wanted. The other half of the time, he wanted to cry at his own fantasies.

Taking a breath, he started filling out the form and getting very specific as to what he was looking for. A ‘guy’. Oh God, he couldn't believe he'd typed that. Tall, over six feet, dark hair. Has to be fit, six or twelve pack. What else... what else did he need? Humor, guy needed a sense of humor if he was gonna survive Dean Winchester, so he typed that in. Rugged... yeah, he didn't want some city slicker to show up, though Sam could play that part real well. Then he had to come up with a title for his fantasy weekend. Hmmm. _Getting Stuck In Small Spaces_. Well that was how all this started.

He wrote a few examples, mainly the truth about the sitch's he had found himself in, where he was plastered to his brother and horny as hell. Maybe if he worked out those feelings, those fantasies, on someone else, he'd find some peace and could look at Sammy without being hit with a thousand erotic images that were so fucking wrong, it wasn't funny.

His finger hovered over the send button. Should he? Then he remembered the last incident....

*

[A week ago]

They’d been investigating some deaths and had narrowed the possibilities down to three women, who could very well be dabbling in witchcraft. It had to be pretty damned unlikely that it was a coincidence that the three were really good friends, ‘tight’ as many of the townspeople called them, and they were benefiting from the deaths of others. One of them had been promoted due to her bosses death. Another one of them was the sole winner of a lottery she’d bought with a friend... a friend who happened to die before they collected. The third one was now mourning the death of her fiance, who’d just happened to be cheating on her and who had died in the arms of his lover in a freaky accident. 

So that was the reason they’d broken into the lottery winner’s new house through her kitchen window. Only a few minutes later, the three women had come into the house and right before they’d burst into the kitchen, eyes wide and slightly panicked as they’d looked for another exit, they’d both dived into the unusually large laundry chute to get the hell away.

Big mistake. Huge.... cause now they were stuck in the tube, face to face and pressed together, God knew for how long... 

And then Sam got to itching.... 

"Dean," Sam whispered as he started slip sliding his body against Dean's. "I, " Sam grunted, face contorting, eyes squeezed closed, as he concentrated on hitting the right spots, “I'm itching... bad." he told him. Sam's eyes opened, lips parted slightly, breath ghosting over Dean's face. "Like the time you put itching powder in my boxers, but it's like...all over," he said as he continued to use Dean's body as a scratching post.

Oh God, Sam was humping him... oh God the heat, the uncontrollable reactions of his body, the need to push right back and kiss him into submission... right that was just crazy. "Stop... stop, stop... Sam, stop!" he practically snarled, clamping Sam's legs between his own in an effort to stop the movement. "For Chrissakes... there's no room and you're ..."

Sam raised confused eyes to Dean, "What?" he huffed and continued to wiggle, "I can't help it. It's driving me nuts! Just...." more wiggling and grinding, "just...deal with it." Sam told him between clenched teeth as he looked away from his brother's face, feeling his own arousal grinding against his brother's hip. 

"Just think about something else." Sam told him, as his fingers tightened their grip on Dean's bicep. "I swear to God, I am about to scream or just jump out of here. What the hell is that!? Am I allergic to the laundry chute!?!" he muttered grinding and rubbing harder against his brother's body.

"Think about something else..." how the fuck could he even think when they were practically having sex and talking about itch's that couldn't be scratched? "Stop fucking around." Right, that sounded bad. Nothing he said made a difference. No... Sam just kept moving, kept stimulating him until his head was filled with visions of himself pounding his hips into his brothers. He tried to get away, to slide past Sam's body and down the chute, but there was no way.

Without thought, he fully mounted Sam, gritting his teeth as they groins rubbed together, hard. "Okay, enough!" Getting a footing, he pushed and practically rode Sam's body like a sled until they fell out onto a heap of clothes. Sam's knee was lodged between his legs, and God... all he wanted to do was hump it... like the dog that he was. 

Sam's eyes opened wide as he looked at his brother. His growled words startling him. It wasn't like he was _meaning to_ , wasn't like he had planned to rub against his brother until he was so friggin hard it nearly hurt. Fuck, if he had his way they wouldn't even be crammed into this chute like this. But, no. It had been no fault of his own that they had wound up in here, where he was apparently allergic to _something_ and now grinding against his friggin brother! 

As Dean pushed them free and they started down the chute, Sam tried to look down, craning his neck to try to see where they were about to land, only to wind up arching, what little bit he could, even closer to his brother's body. Okay, _that_ was a mistake. Dammit! 

When they landed in the huge pile of clothes, thankfully, Sam looked up his brother, frozen in the position they landed. Cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink, eyes wide, lips parted as his breaths panted softly out. Yeah... they needed to move. Now.... yeah, right now....

Dean's heated gaze took in Sam's flushed face, his parted lips... and hell, he could hear his heavy breaths. Bet that's how he looked in bed, bet that's how he looked during sex. Dean wanted to know so bad, wanted to know how Sam would sound in the throes of passion. "Sam," he closed his eyes as the word involuntarily broke from the back of his throat. Damn... he sounded... no he was... so fucking needy.

Sam's eyes moved from his brother's lips that he had involuntarily been staring at, to his eyes to see them closed as his name fell from those lips that Sam's eyes seemed to be drawn back to. How full they were, how soft they looked, how he wondered how they would taste if he just leaned up, just a little bit and.... 

Sam blinked and swallowed hard, scrambling backward away from his brother like he was possessed with Lucifer himself or something. Eyes wide, as he looked at him. Okay, this had to stop. They had to do something about this... Yeah, okay, not _they_ , but _he_. He was the pervert here. _He_ was the one having improper thoughts about his brother and the things that they could do... that they should never do... Yeah, he was the one who needed help. Not Dean. Poor Dean had no clue what was going on in his little brother's deranged head. And thank God for that or he'd likely kill him... okay, puke first, then kill him. "I, uh, I think we need to find a way out." Sam stammered as he picked a hand up off the floor to scratch his side.

Not trusting himself to say another word, Dean got up and merely gave a curt nod. He was _not_ going to think about fucking Sam... no way. This was him clearing his mind. Shit, maybe he needed to take up yoga.

*  
[Now]

Argh!!! Hell yeah, he should push the button. If he didn't get this out of his system somehow, he was either gonna go crazy, or he was gonna give himself away. He didn't even want to think what Sammy would think of his big brother then. God, just the thought...

Dean hit the enter button, and sent in his profile and fantasy. Now it was a waiting game.


	2. Chapter 2

[Two weeks later]

"So you're good with me taking off for the weekend?" Dean glanced at Sam who was watching the history channel like it was riveting. "Dude, try Baywatch," he shook his head. 

Sam gave a curt nod at his brother's question, keeping his eyes glued to the television screen. "It's fine," he muttered, as he leaned forward, resting an elbow on his knee and his chin against a fisted hand. "I, uh, I got stuff to do this weekend anyway." 

_Just keep watching TV. Just don't look at him and you won't freeze up. You can do this. It's okay. Not wrong. You're taking care of a problem. Oh God, I don't think I want to do this._ Sam glanced toward his brother then quickly back at the TV. Yeah, he had to do it. He had no choice. "So, yeah, we can just meet," Sam shrugged, "Like Dad taught us, first motel in the phone book, after the weekend is over."

Dean nodded. "Just don't go crazy. Too much soda, books and sitting on your ass surfing the net is bad for you, not to mention the geek factor." He didn't know why it kinda pissed him off that Sam didn't give a shit about being left behind and didn't even ask where the fuck he was going. It was a good thing, but it still got him a little pissed.

Sam only nodded , not even putting up the usual argument about his _not_ being a geek. He had way too much on his mind right then to worry about what Dean thought about his normal activities, and oh God how he wished he was still engaging in normal activities. "Sure. Have fun." Sam called out, as he waved a hand, eyes still firmly glued to the television screen as if watching how volcano's formed was gripping television.

"Fine." Picking up his duffle bag, Dean stalked out the door, just a little grumpier than he had been a quarter of an hour ago.

Once he got to the Impala, he took it for a spin and parked it a couple of blocks away and waited. He didn't want Sam to see he'd left his baby behind, cause that would get him suspicious. He'd fought the Fantasy people, even called 'em up and yelled at them, but they stood firm on their 'policy.' They were adamant that it was their policy to send cars for their members playing out a fantasy, that the location was kept secret until the last minute, and that it was not negotiable. He'd almost told them to fuck off, but then Sam had walked in, and bent over to pick something off the floor... the glimpse of a sliver of the skin at the hem of his shirt, right where his ass started... fuck, he knew he had to do this, had to.

Just on time, a black town car pulled up. Dean got out, took his bag, and took a deep breath before heading over to it. If this didn't work, he had no fucking idea what he was gonna do.

* * *  
As soon as the sound of the Impala's engine roaring to life sounded through the motel walls, Sam sighed in relief and flicked off the TV, tossing the remote on the bed as he leaned back onto the mattress. _Thank God!_ He had begun to think Dean was never going to leave. 

With a glance at the alarm clock's glowing red numbers, Sam pulled back up into a sitting position. He needed to get ready to go. The car would be here in less than an hour to get him and he still hadn't showered like he had wanted to before this stupid catastrophe he had signed himself up for started. 

With a sigh he pulled to his feet, as he grabbed up his duffel and tossed it on the bed. Pulling out clean clothes, Sam shook his head at himself. He had no idea why he was doing this... well, that wasn't exactly true. He knew _why_ he just didn't know what had made him think it was a good idea. After all, no strange guy was going to be Dean and hell, did he really _want_ a weekend with some strange dude? After all, he wasn't gay... right?

Just because every time his brother licked his lips, groaned as he flopped back onto the bed, or sucked on his fingers as he ate… which really, Dean Winchester eating should be ANYTHING BUT a turn – on ... just because it made him hard as hell and made him wonder what it would be like to taste those lips, to feel them on his body, to feel... Sam shook his head, as if trying to erase the thoughts from his mind. It didn't mean anything... a lot of people probably felt that way about... uh, well... NOT THEIR OWN BROTHERS! 

Sam groaned and hung his head. Oh God... yeah, he needed to do this. _Had to_ do this... even if the very idea was unappealing and made him feel awkward and embarrassed. Something, anything, had to be done, to make him NOT feel like this about Dean anymore! Whatever was necessary was worth it. Definitely. Then they could go back to normal, _he_ could go back to normal and Dean would never have to know that for a short time, his little brother was the world’s biggest sick-o ever.

After showering, shaving, brushing his teeth... twice, gargling....twice, and putting on enough deodorant and cologne to choke a horse, Sam stood looking in the mirror biting his lip. "You can do this. Don't wimp out. You owe it to Dean," he told his reflection.

A knock sounded at the motel room door and Sam glanced at his watch. Right on time. _Shit!_

Eyes wide, and butterflies dancing a mambo in his chest, Sam hurried into the other room. "Uh, just a second!" he called out as he grabbed up his duffel and jacket before hurrying toward the door.

The car was here to pick him up at the exact time Fantasies R Us had told him it would be.

As Sam climbed into the back seat of the car and tried to relax, he thought back to when he had made arrangements for this crazy messed up plan.

He had been sitting at his laptop late one evening, Dean had already been sound asleep and well, he had simply stumbled on this site... and YES it was stumbled upon! Who the hell knew that you would get dating sites if you typed in, "lost"!? At any rate, he’d been skimming through them, mostly just shaking his head at a few of them, a small smile on his face, until he had come to this one particular ad... "Fantasies R us"...

He started reading through the ads and one had hit him so strongly, it was like a punch to the stomach. The guy’s description of himself, what he was looking for, his mannerisms, his personality type, everything was... well, a perfect match to what Sam... well, _if_ Sam were looking for someone, that would be what he was looking for.

Apparently, he had even gasped out loud which made Dean stir in his sleep. As Sam looked over at him, Dean's hand moved down across his bare chest, pushing his blanket down, as his full lips parted, his head turned to the side, a soft sigh escaping and.... Sam looked back at the computer with wide eyes and started typing back without a second thought and quickly hit the send button... _THAT_ had been when he started to have second thoughts and he wished like hell there was a way to get that damn post back!

Raising a hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, eyes squeezed tightly closed. _Okay, Sam, just relax. You don't have to do anything, you don't want to do. You can just go there and meet the guy. If you don't want..._ Sam's head fell back against the seat, unable to finish that thought as his hand fell away from his face, landing on his thigh. He took in a slow deep breath and licked his lips, eyes still closed. _You can just talk. Hang out. It didn't say you had to..._

Sam's thoughts died away as he felt the car pull to a stop. Pulling his head up, Sam opened his eyes. Were they there? Oh hell...

The driver got out and opened Sam's door. "Please take these envelopes. These are the fantasies you'll be playing out, in order. The first one starts immediately." Seeing the tall man looked agitated, he gave him a reassuring smile. "Everyone is nervous at first, and then they don't want it to end. I'll be back to pick you up at the same time in three days. Enjoy yourself, sir."

Not giving Sam a chance to argue or change his mind, the driver set his duffle bag down, and drove away from the tiny cabin in the middle of the woods, miles away from civilization.

Sam watched the car pull away before looking down at the envelopes in his hands, then up at the small cabin. Moment of truth. He could do this. He _had to_ do this. With a heavy sigh, Sam nodded to himself as he bent to grab his duffel. Straightening, he slowly started walking toward the cabin, feeling as though he was walking 'The Green Mile' and not into a 'fantasy' at all.

* * *

Dean had explored the cabin, which took all of three minutes. It was as small as some of the smaller motel rooms they'd stayed in, barely room for two people in the kitchen, and the hallways were tight, the bed... small, the exercise room... hell it was more like a closet. He heard the car pulling up. That was his cue.

Setting down the glass of whiskey, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. The urge to just fucking go out there and see what this dude looked like was strong, but he got why they'd written the first fantasy the way they had. It would be much easier if he didn't really see the guy. Then he could imagine he was Sam, and... yeah, get the awkward stuff out of the way before they had a chance to talk.

The card he'd pulled out of the envelope had said he was to get into a closet using the door from the bedroom. It was pitch dark in there, he'd already checked. And there was a curtain to prevent him from seeing the other guy when the guy entered the same closet from the living room side. Once they were sealed in and the doors were closed so no light penetrated, they were to tear the curtain down and start to explore each others' bodies, kiss...

Walking quickly back to the glass, he drained it, but left the bottle next to it. Then he rushed down the hallway, to the bedroom and got into place in the closet. Was this wrong? Yeah, but not any more wrong than how he was constantly thinking about what it felt like being tied to Sam, or riding his body down that damned laundry shoot, or the way he felt every time his brother paraded round half naked after a shower. Okay... let's get this over with.

He could hear the front door open, and footsteps. Hesitant. Oh he bet the guy would need a shot or two, unless he did this all the time. He blew out a hot breath.

Sam swallowed hard, his hand paused on the door know, the brass cold under his palm and fingers, or maybe his hands were just hot, sweating. Squaring his shoulders, he stepped into the cabin, quietly closing the door behind himself.

Sam slowly walked around the cabin, looking around before he even bothered with doing what the first envelope told him to do. Catching sight of a bottle of whiskey on the counter of the kitchen, Sam walked over to it. Yeah, he could sure use a drink right about now. Reaching a free hand out, Sam grabbed the bottle, intent on doing just that, when he stopped short. Pulling his hand back, he sighed and shook his head. He needed a clear head. Even though the drink would help his nerves, he needed to be able to think. 

Turning away from the whiskey bottle, Sam walked back into the living room, placing his duffel down on the sofa along with the envelopes. Closet. Get into the closet through the living room. Sure. No problem. Sam stood staring at the door as though it lead to hell and damnation. Okay, he'd just walk in. Just walk right in there... as soon as his legs decided to listen to his brain....

Slowly he walked over to the door, pulling it open and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Sam stood with his arms at his sides in the complete darkness of the closet, hands clenched into tight fists as he waited. 

For a few seconds, there was complete stillness. Dean could hear his heart pounding, his blood rushing. Hell, he could even hear the other guy breathing, that's what deprivation of sight did, he figured, made his sense of hearing sharper. Licking his lips, he got a handful of the curtain between them and hardly tugged before the material fell.

Sam stood listening to his heart beats, or hell maybe it was the other guy’s heart beating. Unless... unless the guy did this all the time, and he would be the only one of them feeling awkward about this and... Sam squeezed his eyes closed, forced himself to stop panicking. Opening his eyes he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, just as he felt the material fall away. His hunter’s instincts kicked in and confirmed there was someone standing right in front of him.

Immediately, Dean felt the other guy's body heat. A deep breath had him reeling. He didn't know if it was his imagination, but the guy even smelled like Sam. His cologne, his scent. Dean was about to make the mistake of talking, but he clamped his mouth shut. 

Sam held his breath, waited, waited to see what the other man would do. What should _he_ do? He stood statue stiff, every muscle clenched, the muscle in his jaw twitching slightly as he clamped it tight.

Dean was so damn tense, every muscle in his body ached a little. The space between them was crackling with energy, and Dean knew one of them had to make a move... break the ice. If this guy was anything like Sam, then yeah... it meant it would have to be Dean.

Taking a step forward, he put his hands out, his palms meeting other guy's warm flesh at his neck and throat. When the man didn't pull away, Dean moved his hands up, feeling the pulse beating at the base of his throat, and then drawing his thumbs over the contours of the guy's chin and face. If he didn't know better, he'd swear the guy felt just like Sam. These Fantasy people were fucking smart, letting their imaginations fill in the features of the other person as an opening game play.

Sam flinched slightly as the other man reached out, before he forced himself to hold still to let this happen, to see, to try... For Dean. He had to exorcise these demons for Dean. Had to.

Allowing the man's hands to move over him, Sam let out the breath he'd been holding, licked his lips. What would he do if this were Dean touching him? The guy seemed to use the same after shave as Dean, or he had that same scent, something... Sam absently wondered if that had been in the application he had filled out, suddenly unable to remember. 

In a moment of courage, Sam dipped his head, his lips finding the knuckle of a thumb, he placed a soft kiss against the man's knuckle, before his tongue darted out to slowly run along the man's thumb, before Sam lifted a hand, taking the man's hand in his, pulling it from his neck, his face, and taking the thumb into his mouth, sucking softly on the digit as Sam closed his eyes. _Dean..._

_Holy..._ Dean felt like he'd been sucker punched. Lately he'd caught Sam looking at his thumb, his fingers every time he ate with them. Sure, he'd probably been disapproving, but Dean had sort of imagined or wanted what was running thought Sam's mind to be different, and here was this guy... first thing he did was to lick his thumb. Those fantasy people didn't charge enough.

He pulled his thumb out, the popping sound making his dick twitch. Then he inserted his index finger inside. Damn... the guy's mouth was so fucking hot, so hot... Dean wanted to push his tongue inside him, and three minutes hadn't even passed.

When the guy pulled his thumb from Sam's mouth, Sam felt a moment of panic, his eyes opening. Had he done something wrong? Was it too much too soon? But then, a finger replaced the thumb and Sam had to bite back the moan that wanted to escape as he suckled the guy’s finger, his body beginning to respond. Breaths coming slightly faster, deeper, his cock beginning to swell. 

Dean ran his free hand through the guy’s hair, so soft, so silky just like his brother's. He moved down his back... and how the hell did they find a body double? This guy was built, just like Sam. He swayed forward, closing the gap between them, the light touch of their bodies driving him to remember what it was like being against his brother, making his body react just as strongly now.

The hand in his hair kept his alarm at bay as Sam closed his eyes and concentrated on what he would do, how he would feel if this were Dean and not some stranger. Feeling the hand run down his back, the man swaying closer, Sam tensed again as his lips parted, the man's finger falling from his lips.

_Dean. It's Dean. Dean._ The thought playing over and over in his mind, like a mantra, Sam closed his eyes once more and wrapped an arm around the other man, as he dipped his head and nuzzled against his neck. He slowly kissed him there, at the man's thrumming pulse before his tongue darted out to run lightly over warm skin, then nipped softly, a low groan deep in his throat, muffled against the other man's neck.

_Oh God yes_. That felt so damn good, so good. Dean started to work the guy's jacket off, and got some help. Then he was shoving his tee shirt up, smoothing his palms over ripped abs, so tight, so damned firm, just like his brother’s. He groaned, greedily moving his hands up to feel more of him, rubbing his thumb over a flat male nipple, wondering if the guy would taste like Sam. Inside his mind, he knew just what Sam would taste like.

As the man pushed a his jacket, Sam's arm unwrapped from around the guy for a split second as he helped to shake off the covering, before his arm wrapped back around the other man, drawing him up even closer, pressing his body against the other man's as the other sleeve of his jacket was removed.

As the man's hands moved again to Sam's tee, he pulled back enough to allow him access, a moan lodged in his throat as he thought of Dean's hands on him, of Dean touching him, wanting him. His head tilted back, lips parting as Dean's name sat on the tip of his tongue, he had to bite back the name from tumbling from his lips in a passionate groan as hands caressed and searched his flesh.

He couldn't take it anymore, having dreamt up what he thought Dean would taste like, what those full lips would feel like, he had to know, had to find out if this guy, if he would be anything even close to what he had imagined. Lowering his head, Sam's arm pulled from around the man, his hands cupping each side of the other man's face as he lowered his lips to the man’s, kissing softly. His knees felt weak as his lips touched soft, full lips. _Holy hell! How did they know...that hadn't been on the ad, he was sure of it...how did they..._

They were mouth to mouth, and suddenly Dean couldn't clamp down on his urges anymore. Turning them around and pushing the guy up against the closet wall, he pressed against him. Just like that, heat surged straight to his cock, and there was no hiding his arousal. This wasn't Sam... this was what this guy wanted too... he didn't have to hide it, not now, not with him. Now he could just pretend this guy was Sam, all hot and willing, and he could get his way with _Sam_ until he worked these crazy feelings out of his system.

Sam gasped softly as his back hit the wall of the closet, the other guy pressing against him. He could feel the guys hard cock pressed against his hip, grinding against his own denim encased erection. Sam's breaths were coming short and fast, fear and excitement coursing through his body. This wasn't some strange guy, this was Dean, he kept telling himself, making himself believe the words.

Dean’s mouth suddenly went from soft, to firm. He wasn't fighting the hormones raging through his body anymore, he was giving them free rein. Using his body to corral the guy, hold him in place, Dean plunged his tongue inside his mouth, stroking, tasting, taking everything he needed, everything he'd imagined and wanted for so damned long, as thoughts of his brother filtered through his mind. It was Sam's large hands that were clutching him, it was Sam's tongue trying to slip into his mouth, it was Sam pressing back, reacting to him so fucking perfectly.

As the other man deepened the kiss, his tongue darting into his mouth, Sam moaned softly, his hands rising to the other man's shirt, grabbing fistfuls in his hands. He, the man, tasted, _fucking tasted_ just like he'd dreamt Dean would taste like with liquor on his tongue. How weird was that? There was no way they could get that right, no way they could know, and yet here it was, the taste he had imagined... or maybe he was just that friggin' sick now that any guy would taste like Dean. That anyone would work... Oh God, no. Sam forced himself not to think like that to worry about it anymore and just _feel_.

Slowly, Sam pulled one hand free of the man's shirts and wrapped it around his body, pulled his body hard up against his own frame, fingertips digging into the other man's back as he pressed his tongue back against the man's. Pushed his way into his mouth, mapping out every area, before pulling back slightly, to run his tongue over, across full lips, corners of the man's mouth teasingly before darting back inside again. He ran his hand down the man's back, cupping his ass as he pressed their groins together, hips grinding against the other man’s. _Dean...please...Dean..._

He was fucking burning up, and they weren't even skin to skin. How the hell was he gonna be able to take this? There was no fucking way he was going to be able to strip him, touch him all over and learn his body like he was supposed to. Groaning with need, he forced his hand between them and started to undo his partner's pants, their mouths still melded together. 

Sam didn't even hesitate as he felt the other man's hands at the fastenings of his jeans. That moan, the way he tasted, the way he smelled, the way he felt against his hands, the toned and muscled body... so much like his older brother's, it was getting easier and easier to make believe. Easier and easier to just let his man give and take what he wanted to.

Dean got his own pants undone and tried to pull them down, but they were both at each other again, with their cocks only partially out of their pants. _Fuck... fuck... fuck..._ He couldn't wait, he was thrusting so hard, gripping the guy's hips and pulling him close as he fucked against him. He smelled like Sammy, felt like Sammy, dammit... his breaths and moans even sounded like Sammy. Dean wanted him so much, so fucking much...

Sam gasped and moaned as the other guy thrust up against him hard, fingertips digging into his hips as he held tight. Sam held onto the other man just as tightly, just as wantonly as he ground his hips back against the other man, thrusting his cock against the other man’s as his tongue thrust in and out of the man's mouth. _Don't stop! Don't Stop! OhGoddon'tstop!_

Sam's eyes opened wide with shock at his own body's quick and sudden reaction. His balls drawing up, heat pooling in his lower belly quick and hot and urgent. Tearing his mouth away from the other man's Sam bit his lip as he felt the first of his orgasm rush through him. "Oh my God, Dean!" Sam groaned, clinging tightly to the other man.

Dean was spasming against the guy, riding out the last waves of lust still wracking his body, when he heard his name groaned out in an unmistakeable voice. He stopped suddenly, his heart ramming against his chest for an entirely new reason. "Sam? Sammy?"

Even as he heard Dean's voice, it didn't seem to penetrate through his lust fogged mind that he wasn't imagining it. _Yes, Dean, yes..._ Were his only thoughts as he rode out his orgasm against the other guy.

He couldn't take not knowing, not for another instant. Pulling back, he shoved the door open. Light flooded in, revealing his brother, who looked thoroughly fucked, is lips swollen, his face flushed... his clothes in shambles. 

"Oh God... oh Christ..." Dean stumbled backwards out of the closet and into the living room, tugging his zipper up and automatically reaching for the bottle. A few swallows of the amber liquid that burned all the way down to his stomach, and he felt no better. It was still Sam... he'd practically fucked SAM.

The guy pulled back so fast, it felt Sam grasping, stumbling blindly for a moment before light poured in from an open door, blinding him momentarily as he squinted at the guy before him. Slowly, reality sank in and what he was seeing, _who_ he was seeing, hit Sam like a sucker punch to the gut as his eyes widened. Oh God, oh no, oh no...

He watched his brother stumble out of the closet, even as Sam tried to quickly right his clothes as he followed him out.

"Dean...I - I'm sorry..." Sam tore his eyes away from his brother as he hung his head, eyes on the floor, before he closed them tightly, "So sorry," he said told him softly as he opened his eyes, head shaking. What was he going to do? What were they going to do? Dean knew. Knew his horrible secret. He must hate him now. Think he was sick, so very sick.

Covering his eyes with his hand, Dean nodded. "Me too, Sammy. What the fuck are we gonna do?"


	3. Chapter 3

Hours later, after a stilted and awkward conversation, they realized they were both in the same damned boat, though it didn't make either of them feel any better. They had no transportation and though they both had a general idea of where they were, giving someone else directions to come get them would be hell... and not to mention the explanations. They were stuck here for the weekend... in a small space... just like they'd each requested. Great.

"You can take the bedroom," Dean said, jittery as hell as he ate his meal from the livingroom side of the kitchen counter. Each time either of them moved to get something from the fridge, or a drawer, their bodies brushed. They'd move apart like they'd been shocked, and there was a lot of avoiding each others' eyes. "We'll get through this. Maybe talk some tomorrow... maybe outside."

Sam glanced at his brother, before quickly looking away and nodded. "Yeah, okay." He agreed, though he wasn't sure how much anymore talking was going to help change things. 

Outside would be good though. Out of the close confines of this cabin, where they weren't always in each others’ personal space. Yeah, that'd be good. If the weather was better, Sam would volunteer to camp outside, however, just their luck, it wasn't. 

"If you want the bed, you can have it, Dean. I don't mind. Doesn't matter to me," Sam told him as he examined his nails for nearly the hundredth time since the closet incident. 

He pulled to his feet and started toward the small cubby of towels and linens in the hall, intending to check on bedding for whoever slept on the sofa. The cubby was about waist high, forcing Sam to bend to look inside, his frame filling up the hallway. "Uh, would you believe me if I told you there's only one thin blanket?" Sam asked his brother as his hand moved through the linens. Great. Nothing like the bare necessities around here.

"It's fine," Dean shook his head, trying not to look at Sam's sweet ass. Sonovabitch, these feelings crawling up and down his insides were ten times worse now that he'd actually gotten a taste of Sammy and knew that they both wanted it. "I'll be fine on the sofa. Seriously." _Just stop shaking that ass at me unless..._ He blew out a hot breath. "You done eating?"  
Sam glanced over at his brother then away quickly and nodded, "Yeah." He pulled up to his full height then, blanket in hand, letting it unfold slightly. "Uh, dude, this is not going to keep you warm." Sam told him as he looked up at him with a raised brow. "You huddle under blankets in the dead of summer. If you hadn't noticed, it's winter and this thing is thin. Maybe I ought to pull the one off the bed for you and I'll take this one?" 

Sam quickly looked away, his eyes having been drawn to his brother's mouth, his hand as he held the fork. The memory of his fingers in his mouth. Sam squeezed his eyes closed as he leaned a hand against the wall, licked his lips. "So, what do you want me to do, Dean? Where do you want me? Which place? Which covering?" he asked him, keeping his eyes closed.

What the fuck was Sam doing, closing is eyes and looking like he was begging for a kiss? Between that and asking him the same question again, Dean was about to start yelling. "Light blanket and sofa is fine, I've got warm clothes," he said through gritted teeth, then stuffed his mouth to keep it busy in other ways. Where did he want him... Goddamn it, he wanted Sam under him... that's where, and it was killing him. 

Sam sighed and nodded, slowly opening his eyes as he looked away, "Fine." he said as he waked over to the sofa and tossed the blanket down, then turned and headed up the hall to grab his brother a pillow off the bed. Could this be anymore awkward? Could they be in a worse predicament? Sam huffed. Maybe he shouldn't think that or he just might jinx them. Not that he thought it could really get any worse. 

And then, as he pulled the blanket back off the bed, to grab up a pillow almost angrily, Sam saw the silk sheets and groaned, his head tilting back as he closed his eyes. _Ah, hell!_ Couldn't be scratchy cotton could it? Nope, of course they were silk. Silk, silk, silk... just like Dean's damn soft ass lips. _MotherFu-_ Sam turned on his heels, pillow tucked under his arm and stormed back up the hall.

Heading for the bathroom at the same time, Dean flattened himself against the wall in the hall. His eyes were glued to Sam's as his brother mimicked him, and flattened himself against the opposite wall and walked past, their bodies brushing, catching, and brushing. Dean's hands clenched as he fought the need to just pull Sam up against him. His heart was beating so damned loud, his brother could probably hear it.

Did he really have to walk up the hall _now_? Right after visions of Dean's lips, and the memory of how they had felt, how they had tasted against his own had just been racing through his mind!? Sam was sure there was some cosmic force out there that hated him right then and wanted nothing more than to torture him, even as he flattened himself against the hall wall, sucking in his stomach, his breath, trying to make himself as small as possible, but it wasn't working, nothing was changing, except maybe the twitching of his cock in his jeans as he brushed past his brother and into the living room. 

This was not going to work. Not even a little bit. What were they going to do, take numbered turns going up and down the hall? You can go at 2 and 3 o'clock and I'll go at 2:30 and 3:30? Sam huffed. How stupid would that be!?   
But there wasn't too many other options open to them at this rate, unless they just gave in and... No. No that wasn't an option. The closet incident had been close enough and awkward enough. No way could they do more.

Dean definitely stayed in the small box of a bathroom for longer than necessary, then washed his face. What he needed was a cold shower, but he wasn't taking one. Letting out a heavy breath, and checking whether the hallway was clear, he headed for the living room. "Maybe we can watch some tv," he said gruffly. One small couch. One tv. Fuck. It was too early to sleep and there wasnt anything else to do unless they... which they weren't.

He dropped down on one end of the couch, and flipped on the TV.

Sam glanced at his brother before moving to sit on the arm on the far side of the couch, eyes glued to the TV, hoping like hell that there was something on, anything that would take their attention off each other. Or maybe it was just him... maybe only he needed the distraction. No, if Dean's mood was any indication, it was both of them. 

"So, uh," Sam tried to think of something to talk about, but decided maybe it was better to just shut the hell up. "Nevermind." he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest with a sigh, feet planted wide against the floor.

"Yeah?" He waited a while, then looked over at Sam. Seeing his brother had no intention of saying more, he noticed how he was sitting. Coughing, he quickly looked away. "You know you can sit down, I'm not gonna attack you." _Just gonna want to._ He pressed the channel button with more strength than necessary.

Sam nodded, keeping his eyes on the television. "Yeah, I know," he told his brother. _But, I might attack you._ Sam didn't move, remained as he was, his hands on his knees, fingers, gripping so hard, the tips were turning white. "What uh, what do you feel like watching?" Sam asked him, glancing at the floor, before looking back up at the television, jaw clenched, back ridged.

"Anything. So got something in mind?" He flipped the channel, his stomach clenching as they watched a scene involving an idiot of an older man getting his jollies as a young woman accidentally kept brushing up against him. 

"Oh holy hell," Sam groaned, "NOT THIS!" he nearly yelled at his brother, before catching himself and sighing, his head hanging. "Dean I can't do this. I'm sorry, I just can't," Sam told him. Slowly, he looked up at Dean, eyes searching his brother's face in that 'puppy dog' way he had.

Sam's shout brought him out of the horrified stupor with which he'd been watching. "Ah..." Did Sammy mean he wanted them to... No, he couldn't mean that. "Me too, I can't watch this shit." Dean changed the channel, still giving his brother a hard look. "It'll be better tomorrow, Sam. Today's..." his gaze drifted to the closet, and he wiped his hand over his eyes.

Sam dropped his gaze to the couch cushions, nodding slightly. "Yeah..." he said softly, before looking back at the TV. This was so not going to work. The amount of time they were suppose to be here together, alone, in such close quarters... No way. He doubted tomorrow was going to be any better, unless by some miracle they woke up and suddenly didn't feel like this anymore. Yeah, there was always that hope. Sure... 

With a sigh, Sam pulled to his feet. "I think I'll just turn in early. I can't sit here anymore," he muttered, as he gabbed his duffel and headed toward the hall. Walking up the narrow hall, he hoped and prayed his brother didn't follow, or worse yet, didn't need to walk up the hall at anytime soon. 

Walking into the bedroom, Sam closed the door behind himself, leaning back against it with a sigh. Closing his eyes he swore softly under his breath, before reopening his eyes and pulling from the door. Walking over to the bed, he tossed his duffel onto it. Sam's hands went to the fastenings of his jeans before he paused and swore again as he looked over his shoulder. Maybe sleeping in his clothes would be better. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Sam unlaced his boots before toeing them off and leaning back, his back against the headboard. 

He knew he shouldn't have done this. Knew it, knew it, knew it. Sure, it had been for other reasons that he had thought he shouldn't do it, but still... had he just canceled, or not sent the damn application to begin with, they wouldn't be where they were now. Letting his head fall back against the wall, he closed his eyes with a sigh.

*

It was past midnight and Dean hadn't gotten a lick of sleep. Every channel he'd turned to had segued into some provocative scene that put him into his lust-filled hell all over again. Shutting the damned TV hadn't helped, because he'd stare at the closet door and remember how good Sam felt, how he tasted... how he'd reacted to his every touch. Those sounds he made... damned delicious sounds. Fuck.

Dean turned over on the small sofa, fighting to cover more of his body. It was fucking freezing, even with his sweatpants and tee shirt on. He'd just have to put on a couple layers of clothes he decided, getting up. First, he made a pit stop in the bathroom, without turning any lights on. If Sammy was getting some sleep, he didn't want to disturb him... not when he knew how hard this was on himself too. 

Sam lay in the center of the double bed, staring at the ceiling as he had been doing for the last three hours. Before that he had tried to read, thankfully he had brought a book, not that he really knew why, but he had. He had tried to think of a way out of this, tried to think of how to just go back to the way it was between himself and his brother, after all, being alone together never used to bother them, hell they had done it for years. It had only been as of late that things had gotten weird... and then of course there was the closet thing that only increased the awkwardness between them. He’d decided that he was too hot under the thick blanket in his jeans and that if Dean was in a whole different room, that there was no harm in stripping down to his usual tee and boxers. Even that didn’t help, and he was still staring at the ceiling, wishing he could fall asleep. 

With a sigh, Sam threw back the covers and sat up on the side of the bed. Maybe if he got a drink of that whiskey that was out there, maybe it would calm him enough that he could finally get at least a couple hours of sleep. Yeah... maybe. 

Pulling to his feet, Sam made his way to the bedroom door, hand on the knob, he slowly turned it, pulling the door open slowly, being as quiet as he possibly could, not wanting to disturb Dean just because _he_ couldn't sleep, it was no reason for Dean to be awoken in the dead of night hearing him rummaging around the place. 

Sam stepping slowly out into the hall, taking a deep breath, even as the coldness of the house outside the warm bedroom hit him. Damn, and Dean was out here sleeping!? Sam shook his head. Tomorrow night Dean could have the bedroom and he'd take the couch. Sam stood there, just outside the bedroom for a few moments thinking maybe he should grab his jeans and slip them on, but then he decided against it. He could get a drink and be back in the room before he got too cold and as long as he was quiet Dean would never know.

Shit, it was fucking cold. Dean slipped out of the bathroom and took two steps before he found himself up against a warm body. He stilled at about the same time as his brother did. Heat seeped in through his clothes. Pressed so close, he could feel his brother's powerful thighs, his groin, his chest against his own. Every hot breath Sam released, brushed Dean's cheeks. White hot heat inched through Dean's veins. 

Sam hadn't thought Dean was up, had never dreamed he would run into him in the absurdly narrow hall. If he had had any idea, any inkling, he would never have left the bedroom. Or at least that’s what he told himself, even as he stilled in the hall, choking back the moan that wanted to escape at the feel of his brother's warm body against his own. He could feel every inch of his brother through the cotton of his sweats, his tee. Dean might just as well be standing there fucking nude. Oh hell. Sam stood there quietly, focusing only on breathing. Just breathing. Not saying a word, not moving a muscle.

"God damn it... God damn it Sammy," Dean groaned, unable to stop himself... unable to prevent himself from wrapping his arms around his brother's waist.

As soon as he felt Dean's arms encircle his waist, Sam snapped. His arms wrapped around his brother, as he pressed even closer to his frame, if that were even possible. Lowering his head, he crushed his lips to his brother's a moan escaping him as his tongue pushed it's way into Dean's mouth, caressed the moist cavern, licked and traced every area, mapping out his brother's mouth, savoring the flavor that was Dean. _Forgive me, Dean. I'm sorry._

_God damn it. God damn it._ All the alarms ringing in his head weren't enough to stop Dean. Some power beyond his comprehension was drawing him to his brother, and he was worn out from fighting it, fighting the hunger that hadn't given him a moment’s peace. Tugging Sam's hips closer, he finally had the pressure he needed on his cock, grinding against Sam... feeling his brother's arousal against his own hip. 

Sam groaned as Dean tugged him closer, as his arousal ground against his brother's hip. _Oh God..._

Dean broke the kiss only long enough to gasp for air, then covered his brothers' mouth again. Their tongues met and clashed, slid together, pushed and pulled... always racheting up the heat, winding Dean up tighter and tighter, making him go slowly insane. 

He couldn't take it. Call him weaker than Dean, call him more perverted than Dean ever had been, even when Sam had picked on him about it for years, whatever the case was, he couldn't take it anymore. He slammed his brother's form back against the wall, not that there was much room to move to begin with, but what little there was, was gone now as Sam nearly crushed his brother against the wall, his hands running over his brother's body.

Dean had never known his brother could be so damned aggressive. Fuck, the way he was manhandling him had Dean going up in flames. Hard hands moved over him, exploring, groping, and making Dean's cock so hard he was aching. Aching for his little brother's touch, how fucked up was that? He never needed, wanted anything so much... more of Sam, more of his taste, his scent... just more.

Pulling his hands from his back, down his sides, across hard abs, before circling his brother's waist, Sam tore his lips from Dean's. "Need this, need you..." the words a soft breathless plea, before he crushed his lips to Dean's once more.

His heart slammed into his chest full force at his brother's words. He didn't even have a chance to answer, to think... Sam was on him again, and they were pawing each other, bumping into the wall as they struggled to move toward the bedroom. Dean knew he should stop this, he should push Sam away, get drunk and sleep. But he damned well couldn't, not with his body raging like this, not with Sammy clinging to him, needing him, practically begging him.

"Sam..." his breath was labored, "Listen Sam... Clothes stay on, alright?" 

Sam nodded, "whatever you say, Dean. Whatever you want. Fine, yes. Just need you, so damn much," Sam told him breathlessly as his hands continued to run over his brother's body. 

Slowly they made their way to the bedroom, sliding along the wall until finally they reached the bedroom door. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, his hands gripped his brother's ass, pulling him hard up against his body. "Fuck," Sam groaned as they moved into the room and he walked Dean backward toward the bed.

They were gonna do this... they really were. Eyes wide open, knowing who they were with, making a choice. No not a choice, there was no choice, this was bigger than both of them. Dean gritted his teeth at the sensations crashing over him each time Sam fucked against him like that, so desperately. "Sammy... what about tomorrow?" He thrust lightly against Sam, hands sliding under his tee shirt, touching his brother in ways he shouldn't even be thinking. "You gonna be able to handle this?"

Sam's hands stilled on his brother as he swallowed and shook his head. "Worry about that tomorrow," he told Dean, "If we don't do this now, I know I won't be able to handle it. Have to..." Sam told him, as his hands started moving again, pushing up the hem of Dean's tee, as his hands moved over hard flesh, his head dipping to trail kisses along Dean's jaw, neck, to the juncture of neck and shoulder where he bit into his brother's flesh with a deep growl, before releasing and running his tongue over the bite to sooth the area.

"Oh God Sam, you're so fucking hot. So damned hot," he breathed, pulling away just to get his shirt off as his brother did the same. As they came together, touched each other, he realized clothes had started to come off. "Don't take anything else off," he said as firmly as he could. 

Sam nodded slightly. _I don't have much left to remove anyway._

One step back, and he dropped down on the bed, sitting on the edge. He reached out and started to stroke Sam's thighs, pulling him closer, eyes locked on the clear bulge in his brother's shorts. He leaned forward and kissed him along his shaft, opening and closing his mouth, sometimes pressing with his tongue. God... he could feel Sam getting harder, could feel him pulsing under his mouth. 

Sam gasped softly at the feel of his brother's hands on his thighs, the muscles flexed beneath his brother's fingers, his palms. When Dean leaned forward, his lips pressing against his cotton-encased erection, Sam groaned, his hands on his brother's shoulders, squeezing, fingertips digging in, bruising flesh. His head fell back as his breathing quickened, eyes closing as he bit his lip. "Oh God, Dean..." lowering his head to look down at his brother in the dark of the room, Sam licked his lips.  
"More... Need more..." he moaned softly, his hips thrusting toward his brother's mouth. _Holy hell_ Sam could almost imagine what it would be like, feel like, to have Dean's lips wrapped around his cock, to feel him take him into his mouth. Fuck, the idea of what it would look like to see his brother's full lips wrapped around his dick was mind blowing, and it had his blood on fire as it pumped quickly through his veins, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Okay, Sammy. Okay." Dragging his hands up from his brother's legs to his ass and tightening is grip, Dean opened his mouth and started to suck along Sam's shaft... back and forth, until the material of his shorts was sopping wet. When he felt Sam nudging forward, he moved is face, and using one hand, adjusted Sam's cock so that he was now sucking on his crown, and alternately squeezing his balls. His brother was so dammed hard... so fucking hard that Dean was tempted to free him ... even for just a moment, just one taste.

Sam was panting so hard he was in danger of hyperventilating. His eyes alternating between wide and squeezed closed as Dean teased and tormented his dick, his balls, through the damn material. Sam pulled a hand away, not once, not twice, but at least three, if not four times, from his brother's shoulders, intending to pull his own shorts down, only to remind himself that he couldn't, that he had agreed that they weren't going to go that far and force himself to then return his hand to Dean's shoulders.

Sam shook his head as he tilted it back, squeezed his eyes closed. His cock was so hard it was friggin painful, his hands were sweating where he gripped his brother's shoulder's so tight he was sure there were going to be handprints left when he finally let go. "Dean... please... FUCK!" Sam lowered his head as he pulled his hips back slightly, bent and shoved his brother back onto the bed, and stretched out on top of him. His hands moved over his brother's skin, searching, exploring, as his mouth followed their path, across Dean's shoulders, down his chest, across rock hard abs as Sam inched back down his brother's body, kneeling between his legs, he lifted his head, looking up at his brother's face in the dark. His hands continued to move over Dean's hard cock, gripping him through the cotton of his sweats. "The ONLY reason my mouth isn't following is that I promised you." Sam told him softly.

His brother's shout and the sudden roughness with which he'd been pushed away had Dean thinking he’d done something wrong. But then Sammy went all aggressive on his ass, and Dean really shouldn't have liked it so much. His brother's weight, slamming into him like that, making him lose his breath. The way Sam's hands were all over him, like he owned him... not quite matching how Dean envisioned his brother in bed. But then Sam's hands were moving down, and he was kneeling... and oh God, Dean thought he was gonna die if Sam didn't touch him quick.

Then Sam was cupping him and squeezing him, and the intensity in his eyes almost burned Dean. He was breathing hard, trying to think of something to say as his hips started lifting up, and then Sammy took his breath away with his pronouncement. "Oh God... Sam..." The urge to tell him to fuck the promise, to just rip the damned clothes off was getting stronger by the minute. The only thing that stopped Dean was the thought that maybe they could step back from this, but if they went further, they might never be able to. 

With a deep shuddering breath, Sam released his brother and moved to lean up over him, holding himself above Dean, just out of reach as hazel eyes stared down into green in the darkness, "Tell me what you want, Dean. Tell me that you want me as much as I want you. Tell me that you don't want to stop. Tell me..." Sam said softly, his voice husky and deep with his need.

"Sam. Sam!" Dean bit his lower lip in sheer frustration as he lifted his hips and met dead air. He needed Sam, needed his hand or his mouth or his Goddamn body, he needed the pressure. And the demands he was making, so fucking tempting... driving him to the edge. "Sam ... Sam please, I want you, I don't want you to stop... but you promised, you keep your promise Sammy." Dean didn't fool himself, he knew if Sam started to strip him, there was no way he was stopping his brother... as it was, only sheer will was stopping him from stripping himself.

Sam sighed softly, hung his head for a moment, before looking back into green eyes and nodding. Slowly, he lowered himself closer to his brother, his legs laying on each side of Dean's, enough room between them for Sam's hand to reach between them. "I won't do what I know you are afraid of me doing." Sam told him, even as he pushed down the front of his boxers, freeing his hard cock, before reaching for the waistband of his brother's sweats, "Trust me." Sam said softly, his eyes still focused on Dean's as he pushed Dean's sweats down enough to free his erection. Taking both their hard shafts in his big hand, Sam started to pump them both, their cocks moving against one another in his fist as he pumped them, slowly at first, then with increasing speed. Sam kept his eyes on Dean's the entire time, never looking away, never looking down.

The 'no' died on Dean's lips. It was too late, much to late the instant Sam touched him. Much too late once a warm calloused palm surround his shaft, then brought it together with his brother’s cock... still wet from the tonguing Dean had given through his shorts. Dean groaned and gripped Sam's thighs, his fingers digging into his brother's flesh each time Sam’s hand moved over them... squeezing, making their cocks rub together... Dean was burning up.

Sam squeezed his eyes closed for a brief moment, as he moaned softly, before looking back into his brother's jade orbs. The rhyhm of his hand pumping them growing faster, more erratic. "Come with me, Dean." Sam moaned the words before he bit his lip, leaned down and crushed his mouth to Dean's.

"Oh God... oh God, yes," watching his brother come drove Dean over the edge. He started to shout Sam's name, but his brother's mouth clamped down over his, swallowing his words. Dean mindlessly kept thrusting up, silently pleading ... begging Sam not to let him go yet, even after he'd spilled his hot seed over his brother’s hand and cock. “Oh God...” he blew out a hot breath.

There was a brief struggle, but Dean rolled his brother over onto his back and kissed him hard. " _That_ did not count as keeping our clothes on," he said, shaking his head, then dipping down for another taste. 

Sam kissed his brother back, his tongue lingering after the kiss had ended to lick at his brother's lips, before sucking Dean's bottom lip into his mouth briefly. "It was close to keeping them on." Sam argued softly as he looked up at his brother. He looked away then, his expression hardening, "Sorry," he told him softly.

"Don't be." Nipping Sam's throat, Dean got up. "All the time, I was thinking about... I wish I hadn't read what was in the second envelope," he said thickly. Finding a towel, he wiped off as well as he could and pulled his sweats up. "You think maybe we can get some sleep now?" 

Sam looked over at his brother as he rose from the bed. _What was in the second envelope? What the hell was in the second envelope?_ Sam hadn't looked past the first one, not after finding out that the guy they had set him up with was his own brother. The whole reason he was here to begin with. He hadn't even wanted to know what was in the envelopes, but now, now he was damn curious what was so friggin interesting that Dean had been thinking about _that_ when they had been... Sam sighed and looked away. 

"Yeah, 'Night." he mumbled, waiting for Dean to leave the room before he rose from the bed pulling his boxers back up, and walked over to his dirty clothes pile, snatching up his long sleeve shirt, he wiped his hand off with it, then walked back to the bed, sitting down on the edge.

Head in his hands, Sam sighed before running a hand through his hair, as he raised his head. Second envelope, second envelope. Where had he put the damn envelopes anyway?  
He pulled from the bed, and reached for the bedside lamp, clicking it on before walking over to his duffel. He started rummaging through the contents, finally pulling out the envelopes. Sam found the one marked with a number two and opened it up, reading the note inside as he walked back toward the bed. A smile tugged at his lips as he let himself fall back onto the mattress. 

Big brother had a thing for working out or watching him work out, huh? Sam thought back to all the times he had worked out in front of Dean. The push ups, and sit ups he had done in their motel room as they talked over cases. Tossing the paper onto the night stand, Sam turned off the light, and closed his eyes as he thought about his next morning workout routine.

* * *

For someone who doubted he'd sleep, Dean woke up several hours later, cold, cramped... but on the verge of whistling as he sat up and stretched. Then everything they'd done last night hit him like a ton of bricks. He sucked in his breath and listened for Sam. Hearing nothing, he quietly moved around the small cabin, brushing his teeth and getting dressed. Then he took care of the most important part of his morning... coffee. Made a whole pot of it and was taking his first sip when he heard the sound of feet.

His stomach lurched. He didn't know if it was excitement or fear. He did know they had to find some way to handle two more days of this. No, they had to figure out how to handle the rest of their lives with this. Just as Sam walked into his personal space, he blew out his breath.

He'd practiced this speech so many times... it had to come out right. "Look Sam, it doesn't have to be awkward. We can just pretend nothing happened, put it behind us, and that's it." Lifting his face, he looked up at Sam, trying to hear over the sound of his heart pounding. 

Sam smirked down at his brother and nodded, "Sure, Dean. Whatever you want," he told him, before walking past him, or as close to 'past' as one could get in the small cabin, and grabbing a cup and pouring himself some coffee. Sam silently, fixed his coffee the way he liked it, not even looking over at his brother as he did. Once he finished, he glanced over at him, a small smile on his face, before walking back out of the room and down the hall, heading back into the bedroom. 

Once he was there, Sam sat the coffee mug down and slipped on a pair of sweats, then walked from the room into the small bathroom to take care of morning business and brush his teeth.  
Walking back out, he went into the bedroom, grabbed his coffee and walked into the workout room. "Gonna work out!" Sam called out, as he entered, sipping his coffee as he walked. Setting the mug down on a small side table, Sam started his morning workout as usual, sit ups, a hundred of them, followed by push ups. He could hear Dean moving around in the other room, but had no idea what he was doing. Finally finished with what he normally did, Sam moved into the position described on the paper. His hair line was sweaty, his tee sweat stained, and long bangs clung to his brow, but that was nothing unusual. 

With a sigh, Sam started to begin, only to stop and pull his shirt up, over his head, tossing it into the corner of the room. "Well, here goes nothing." he muttered under his breath as he replaced his hands on the floor and started doing the reverse push ups, eyes on the ceiling, hoping like hell Dean was watching, because this wasn't exactly the easiest position to maintain, not after fifty regular push ups before hand. 

Dean had stepped into the living room, seen Sam start to exercise, and then he'd hid in the kitchen for a while. You'd think that would help, but it didn't. It did't because he could hear Sam breathing, he could hear him moving in rhythm, and his goddamn powerful imagination wouldn't let him forget envelope number two.

Furious with himself, and unable to take the oppressively small kitchen for another moment longer, Dean stalked to the living room and sat down. Fuck. San had taken his shirt off. Goddamnit... what made him take his shirt off?

His eyes were laser-focused on his brother who had dug his heels into the floor, and was pushing his entire bodyweight up with his arms, his body held perfectly straight. Every muscle in his arms bulged under the strain. And his chiseled abs... they tightened each time he lifted up. Dean thought he was gonna have a coronary.

Had he read envelope two? He had to have.... Or were those Fantsy people just that smart, knowing what would happen next? Dean had no answers, all he knew was that he had one hell of a hard on, and Sam just kept going, his lips slightly parted, his expression all innocence. He found his hand drifting to his cock, squeezing a few times... wanting to just jack off to the vision of his brother exercising.

Abruptly, he stood and walked into the doorway of the exercise room. "Sam..." When Sam stopped, dropping his ass to the ground, Dean almost lost it. "You gotta stop, man... I..." 

Sam looked over at his brother, his breathing heavy, lips slightly parted, "Huh?" Sam asked him, looking confused, "What's wrong?" He asked as he let himself drop down flat onto the floor. He lay there, gasping for breath, hands moving to rest on his chest, as he rolled his head away, looking back at the ceiling as he swallowed, licked his lips. 

When he looked back at Dean, a single drop of sweat ran down the side of his face. "Can you get me my shirt?" Sam asked him, lifting an arm to point toward the shirt he had tossed into the corner earlier, "Need something to wipe off with."

"Sam..." The way his voice came out, you'd think, _he'd_ been the one who'd been exercising. Damn him... damn him for looking like that. Striding angrily across the room, all two steps, Dean grabbed the shirt and tossed it at Sam. "You're done, Sam. Christ you gotta know what you're doing to me." 

Sam frowned at the shirt that had landed nearly on his head, but only raised up on one elbow to face Dean as he wiped his face and neck off. "Huh? Doing to you? Dean, I always work out, you know that. Hell, I start before you wake up most mornings." Sam told him, shaking his head as he sat up, using his shirt to once again wipe his face and hairline before pulling to his feet, letting the shirt fall to the floor. "I still have pull ups to do."

"Pull ups?" He sounded like an idiot, yeah... he did. But hell, did Sam really mean to.... God damn it, he did. Dean felt ever muscle in his body clench and tighten as Sam reached up to grip the bar and started pulling himself up and down, and up and freaking down, right in front of his face. There was no room to pass. No escape. Just Sam, inches away, breathing like he was having sex, making Dean want it so bad...

Sam looked over at his brother, his face contorted with his effort. "What," Sam grunted as he pulled himself up again, "What's wrong with you?" he slowly lowered himself, then pulled up again, his breaths panting out, "I'm the one doing all the work."

"Wrong? Nothing's wrong." A muscle started throb in his jaw. "Nothing at all, other than you're freaking half naked, in the way, and ... just that." His eyes burned with suppressed need, his hands were clenched as his side, and it took everything he had to prevent himself from barreling through or just... just grabbing Sam and getting an instant replay of last night.

Sam lowered himself again and released the bar, turning toward Dean. "My being half naked bothers you?" he asked him, taking a step closer. "Never did before. Kinda hard to pretend nothing happened if my not wearing a shirt bothers you this much." Sam told him, his voice low, dangerous as he took another step, forcing Dean back against the wall as he took up all the available space in the room. Sam leaned in slightly, so that their bodies barely touched, only ghosted against one another. "Tell me how it bothers you. Does it make you want to do what we did again? Make you want to have me touch you, lick you, kiss you, bite and caress you? Or maybe just suck you? Hmm? Is that it Dean?"

Dean swallowed, and pressed back as far as he could against the wall. He hasn't expected this, but maybe by now, he should have. Every word from Sam's mouth was making him see images, making him want, and he was already aroused and rock hard. He turned his face to the side, away from the predatorial look in Sam's eyes. His breaths came out ragged. "What do you want me to say, Sam? This isn't fucking fair... you're not even trying."

Sam smirked at him, shook his head, "I think it's a little late for denial, or for either of us to be shy or unsure about things anymore. And as for trying," Sam chuckled softly as he leaned in, his lips inches away from Dean's. "Depends on what you think I should be trying." Sam reached a hand up, fingers against the side of Dean's face, turning his head to make him look at him again. "Dean, it's okay. It's just me." Sam told him softly.

He wanted to look away from the heat in Sam's eyes, but it was impossible. First because Sam was holding him, and then because he found himself swaying closer, his gaze dropping to Sam's mouth. How was he supposed to fucking think when he could feel the heat emanating from his body, when he'd just seen him move like he was having sex, and when he was giving him no breathing room?

"How. How can it be okay, Sam?" He really wanted to know. He wanted to know why it was okay for him to feel like this about his little brother.

Sam dropped his hand, the look in his eyes, on his face changing as Dean's word washed over him like a bucket of ice water. How could this be okay? To want to fuck your brother... it couldn't be. It wasn't. 

Sam pulled back from Dean and turned without a word, stepping away, stopping only to grab up his shirt, before he walked out of the room, through the living room and out the door into the cold air, letting it clear his fucked up fogged mind. What the hell was he thinking? 

Sam stepped off the small porch, his bare feet hitting the cold ground. Damn. If he had thought before walking out, he could have grabbed his shoes and gone for a run. Swearing at himself under his breath, Sam pulled his shirt over his head and started pacing in front of the cabin.

Ten minutes later, after he'd gotten a hold of himself, Dean finally came outside. He didn't look at Sam, but he walked to the edge of the porch and leaned on the railing, looking out into the forest. "I'm not in denial, Sam. Not anymore. Like you said, it's too late for that. We both know it."

He blew out a hot breath, watching it mist in the cool morning air. "I want to blame someone, like those God damn hunters who tied us together, or... I dunno, maybe a trickster for doing something, for fucking with us." He turned his head. "I know it’s neither of those things. Deep down, I know that. So where does that leave us?" He spread his hands. "You got any ideas? Any thoughts... anything to say?" 

Sam hadn't looked up, only continued to pace, shoulders haunched, head bowed.   
Where did it leave them? Both needing therapy. But definitely not together. He'd probably just wind up jumping his brother in front of the damn therapist. Sam rolled his eyes at himself and huffed softly. 

When Dean stopped talking, Sam stopped pacing, though he kept his head down. "When we leave here, I'm gonna get a bus ticket. I - I dunno, we can hunt on our own. We know what we're doing, it'll be better that way... if I'm gone, if we're not together," Sam told him softly. Slowly he crossed his arms over his chest, feeling the chill in the air for the first time since he'd walked out. Anger at himself and confusion, guilt and shock had numbed him to it before, until he had finally come up with what he saw as the only answer. The only right thing to do. 

Sam slowly looked up at his brother, "Lots of people only see their brothers on holidays." he shrugged. "I think we should be able to handle that. I promise not to attack you over the eggnog."

Dean literally felt like Sam had ripped him a new one. Like he could be sick right there and then. "You're leaving me?" His voice was thick with unshed tears, and disbelief. He practically stumbled to the stairs, and sat down. "THAT’s your answer." Wiping furiously at his eyes, he stared ahead. "I knew it. This is my fault. If last night hadn't happened. If I hadn't believed for one crazy fucked up moment that you really could handle it. If--" The lump in his throat was so large, he couldn't say another word.

Sam shook his head, "Not leaving you, leaving...this." Sam told him, looking away. "It's the only answer that isn't fucked up, Dean. You know it and I know it." he huffed and shook his head, "How can you say it's your fault? I seem to remember being the one to force things. I seem to remember being the one to put on a fucking show in there a few minutes ago and then," Sam sighed and shook his head, looking away again, "and then, like always, you took care of me. Made me see how fucked up I was being. It's not that I can't handle it, Dean. It's that you were right. How can this be okay?" he huffed and shook his head, tears shining in his eyes, "it can't be."

There were ten minutes of silence. Ten minutes where Sam disappeared into the house, and Dean was paralyzed. And then he saw Sam come back out, now dressed in jeans.

Sam walked off, nowhere particular in mind, but he couldn't just stand there, couldn't let his brother see how upset he was. Tears filled his eyes and he blinked them away as he left, head bowed. How was it that they came to be in such a messed up frame of mind as this? To want to... to desire your own brother... and the thoughts he had had this morning when he had started that frigging little show for Dean. Good God, he was fucked in the head.


	4. Chapter 4

It was late afternoon and it was starting to get dark outside. Sam hadn't come back and probably couldn’t call because of the lack of cell phone reception. Dean didn't feel any of his usual panic when his brother was out of touch for too long. In fact he had no idea how long Sam had been gone. 

Laying on his back on the floor, his hand curled around a bottle of whiskey, he was feeling no pain. No, that wasn't right... technically, he was feeling pain but it just wasn't between his legs or in his heart. The pain was under his shoulder, in the form of his boot... but he couldn't be bothered to remove it, so he was lumping it.

Raising his head slightly, he took another sip of the amber liquid. How much more would it take to fall into the arms of oblivion? Not too much, he guessed, cracking up as he tried to imagine 'oblivion's' face. 

Sam walked back up the steps of the cabin, his hand on the door knob, he paused and took a deep breath. Well, he had to go in there, he couldn't very well sit in the woods all night like he had all day. Hanging his head, Sam turned the knob and pulled the door open. 

When he stepped into the small room, the first thing he noticed, especially with his head bowed, was his brother lying on the floor. Good Lord, was he _trying_ to kill him!? The second thing that he noticed as he closed the door behind himself was just how pissed drunk Dean was. Great. Wonderful. Lovely. Sam sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, that'll help," he grumbled as he walked into the room.

"Sammich..." he gave a long laugh that almost sounded like a cackle, as he looked at his upside down brother. "Came back to step all over me again? Other foot, huh. If you think I care... I don't, so go on," he said, opening up both arms, letting them rest on either side of his shoulder on the floor. "Do your worst."

Sam glared at his brother and shook his head. "Step all over you?" he huffed as he walked past Dean, toward the bedroom, "I came back because there's nowhere else for me to go right now. In case you hadn't noticed, we're kinda stranded out here together," Sam called from the back of the cabin, where he stood in the center of the bedroom, hands on hips, head tilted back. _Oh God... were they ever gonna make it out of this mess?_ Sam closed his eyes and sighed before pulling his head up and running a hand over his face. 

Walking over to the nightstand, he grabbed up the book he had been trying unsuccessfully to read on and off last night, before heading back into the living room. Going straight to the couch, Sam took a seat, making sure to completely ignore his brother, and opening the book.

Pointing at the ceiling, Dean was counting the number of wood beams for like the sixth time because he kept messing up. "Yeah, nothing worse than getting stranded with me. Vampires would be better, demons even. Shit now I have to start over. One, two, three... did I say three?"

Sam looked past his book at his brother, hazel eyes roaming over the tanned flesh revealed as his brother's shirt rode up higher and higher. "Vampires and demons, Dean? Really?" Sam asked him, swallowing hard.

Looking back at Sam, Dean made his 'obviously' face. "You don't run away from them, do you?" He went back to counting, dammit, back at number one. 

"I didn't _run_ from you either. I went for a walk. There's a big difference." Sam told him, trying unsuccessfully to tear his eyes away from his brother's toned abs and smooth skin. "Pull your shirt down dammit!" Sam huffed angrily out of the blue, before finally forcing himself to look back at the typed words on the page before him, though he had no idea what they said.

"My what?" Dean fumbled with his shirt, but when he stretched his arm up, the shirt when back. It was a lost cause. "Here,"he held the bottle up. "Trust me, with that bitch face you're wearing, you need this more than I do. Come on Sammy, take a drink."

Sam glanced at the bottle, then back at the page. "No," he grumbled, brows furrowing more. He'd read the same sentence ten times now and he still had no friggin clue what the hell it said. Damn it, Dean. With a sigh, Sam closed the book and tossed it down on the couch beside him. "So, while I as out trying to think of a way for us to deal, you decided the best thing you could do was get hammered, huh?" Sam asked him, quirking a brow.

"Sorry bro, I like your solution less." Dean brought the bottle to his mouth, lifting his head slightly to drink, and a defiant look in his eyes. A long swallow later, he was trying to sit up, braced on his elbows, when he felt Sam's gaze and looked at him. Oh. He licked the shiny liquid off his lips, then wiped over his mouth with his thumb. "Better?"

Sam tore his gaze away from his brother's lips, shifting uncomfortably, he was already getting hard, just looking at the damn drop of liquid on his brother's full lips, remembering how his mouth had felt through the fabric of his boxers... Sam swallowed, "Sure, if you stab me in the head with an ice pick to get rid of the mental image that's now burned in there," he shrugged, "Then yeah, it's friggin fine."

"For someone not drunk, you're not making any sense. Sure you don't want some?" he jerked his chin toward the bottle, but short of forcing it down Sammy's throat, there wasn't any way he was gonna get his brother to drink it and fucking loosen up just a bit. 

"No, Dean. One of us has to play the grown up here." Sam grumbled.

"Fine." He let out a sigh. "You know, I've loved you as my brother for far longer than... than whatever this is. I just can't believe you won't give me a chance to get us back there. That you're just gonna leave." Trying to get up, he gave a frustrated curse when the coffee table he was using to push up off seemed to slide away under his weight. 

With a soft curse, Sam pulled to his feet and walked over to Dean, grabbing him around the waist, he hauled him to his feet and turned him around to face him, "I'm leaving _for_ you, don't you get that!?" Sam asked him, as hazel eyes searched his brother's face.

"No." Dean leaned on Sam, his eyes full of hot denial. "No I don't get that at all." 

Sam sighed, tearing his gaze away, he hung his head, licked his lips. "What do you want me to say, Dean?" he asked him softly, before raising his head again. "Come on, let's get you to bed." His voice was flat, lifeless, defeated.

"Yeah... dump me in bed, good idea." Gripping Sam's shoulder he started to walk, trying to look a lot steadier than he felt. The instant they were in the hallway, everything changed. They couldn't fit shoulder to shoulder, so they were facing each other... touching everywhere. "Sam." When his brother looked at him, looking maybe scared or... something, he just shook his head. "I was just gonna say, when did everything around us suddenly get so fucking small that we can't fit." 

Sam huffed softly, shook his head as he tried to think back to when things between them had first changed, when suddenly every room, every car ride, every friggin field felt suffocatingly small. "Few months ago, I guess." Sam told him softly before biting his lip, looking away, toward the bedroom door. 

Since when was the hallway so damn long? Sam looked back at his brother with a sigh before clenching his jaw, "In about three seconds, I'm gonna toss your ass over my shoulder and walk into that room and whatever happens, happens."

The look on Sam's face had Dean's heart pumping faster. He shifted, trying to move down the hall, and ended up with Sam's arousal pressed firmly against his belly. His brother was rock hard. He looked back at him, eyes locking. "Whatever you want, Sammy. Just so long as you don't leave my ass when we're done." 

Sam looked at his brother for a long moment, jaw still clenched tight. Whatever he wanted? What about what Dean wanted? Of course... if it was what Sam wanted, Dean could hide behind that. Say that he did it for Sam. That he did what Sam wanted and none of it had to fall on his shoulders. He tore his gaze away with a soft huff. If it made Dean feel better about it, made him feel more like it wasn't both of them, that it was all little fucked up Sammy, then fine. Sam could give him that. He knew the truth. Had heard it from Dean's own lips, even if he wanted to deny it later and ask how what they had done could ever be right. If Dean wanted to hide behind this false sense of security, wanted to pretend to be the voice of reason later in the light of day, fine. 

He looked back at Dean and gave him a small nod, before wrapping his arms around his brother's waist, pulling him up close, then letting his hands slide down to cup Dean's ass, as he leaned in and crushed his lips against Dean's, his tongue pushing past those full lips and into Dean's warm mouth with a soft moan. Sam shifted, hefting his brother up into his arms, he side-stepped the rest of the way down the hall and into the bedroom to the bedside. 

Sam didn't stop kissing his brother as he moved, deepening the kiss until teeth were clanking, tongues dueling. Sam leaned over, half dumping Dean onto the bed, his own body following stretched out on his brother, his hands roaming over Dean's body, up under his shirt, down to his waistband and back up again as he kissed him.

Feeling the weight of his brother press down on him, Dean groaned. All day long, from the moment he'd seen Sam shirtless, muscles rippling, skin shiny with his sweat, moving up and down in that exercise room, he'd craved this. Wanted this. His brother's lips on his. Sam's hands all over him, clawing at him. Sam saying his name. But even more than that, he'd wanted his brother back. Even drunk, he knew what was important to him. He knew, and suddenly caught Sam's wrists in an iron grip, forcing him to stop. "Didn't hear you promise, Sam." He lifted his hips, biting his lip at the heat that shot through him as their groins met. "You promise me you're not leaving. No... no bus ticket, no walking away. You promise, or this isn't happening."

Sam looked down at his brother, hazel eyes locking on green for a long moment before he nodded, "Whatever you want, Dean." Sam told him, tossing his words back at him, eyes still locked with Dean's.

"You know what I want." Lifting his head, he caught Sam's lower lip and sucked on it, pulling away and letting it slip out of his mouth with a loud sound. "You." 

The single word seemed to set Dean on fire. His hands were all over Sam, groping a bit messily, a bit unsteady, but he knew what he needed. More skin - to push Sam's clothes out of the way. More pressure- so he forced his brother's hips down, cursing as they came together hard. 

Sam groaned as his brother pulled his hips down hard, eyes closing for a moment. "Fuck, Dean.." Sam breathed out the words in a rush as his eyes opened. "Want you so bad." Sam shook his head, "Don't want to leave, never want to go," he told him softly, before crushing his lips to his brother's, pushing his tongue inside.

He didn't even get the chance to say 'then don't.' One heated kiss lead to another, and another. Dean rolled Sam over, breaking the kiss to sit up and straddle him. He pulled his shirt and tee off, tossing them to the ground, and immediately felt Sam's warm palms sliding over his bare skin. Working on Sam's shirts was a different story, he was too drunk to be nimble. "Get your fucking shirt off," he practically snarled, relieved that Sam was helping him. 

Looking down at the smooth expanse of skin stretched taut over muscle, Dean sucked in his breath. Leaning down, he licked a path up Sam's chest, kissing and nipping, his hands following the same trail. He played with him, found his sensitive spots, teased and licked Sam as he tried to undo his own pants. 

Sam arched his head back with a moan as Dean licked and teased his flesh, hands running across Dean's skin, wherever he could reach, shoulders, back, sides. Feeling Dean fumbling, Sam tilted his head down to look, a small smile pulling at his lips, before he rolled his brother over onto his back, leaning down over him, braced on one forearm. "Let me," he told Dean, his warm breath fanning Dean's lip. 

Sam slowly trailed his hand down Dean's torso, digits deftly unfastening his brother's jeans, his large hand, then moving to Dean's lower belly, caressed over toned, muscled abs, digits dipping under the band of Dean's boxers as Sam looked back up at his brother's face. 

He watched Dean as his hand slowly dipped down, fingers curling around his hard length, slowly began to pump, his hand squeezing slightly. "Never leave you, Dean." Sam told him softly, "Just... just don't freak out on me later." 

Dean gave a deep groan as pleasure coursed through him. His breaths were getting hella labored as he thrust into his brother's fist, his cock pulsing... aching. "Already had my freak out Sam, you weren't there." Even now, the hurt, the disbelief surfaced. He closed his arms around Sam, like he was never gonna let go. Stroking his back, dragging him closer, writhing under him... in his hand. Oh God, he needed this, needed his brother so bad. 

Sam dipped his head, trailed kisses and nips down Dean's jaw to his neck, the pulse point that thrummed under his lips, his tongue, across his shoulder and back again. "I'm here now..." Sam whispered in Dean's ear before brushing his lips down along Dean's throat, tongue flicking against his Adam's apple before Sam lifted his head and looked down at Dean.  
"Undress me." Sam told him. "Now, Dean. Do it. Show me that you want this as much as I do."

Dean's head snapped up at Sam's tone. The look on his face, took his fucking breath away. "I love it when you go all commanding on my ass," he admitted, biting his lip when Sam finally released his cock. He tried to concentrate on Sam's buckle, fumbling but eventually getting it undone, and pulling the belt off completely. He let it lay across his thighs and started to work on the button, pressing the heel of his hand against Sam's cock, thick and strainng against the thick material of his jeans.

Even through the lust and alcohol induced haze of his mind, he could see Sam getting impatient. He unzipped him, the sound echoing around them. "Lift up." The instant Sam did, Dean tugged on his jeans and shorts, pulling them down to Sam's thighs. Now Sam;s cock pressed against his belly, so fucking hot. 

Sliding the belt around Sam's back, he used it to pull him slowly down toward him until their open mouths met and their tongues battled. He tugged the belt harder, forcing Sam down closer, groaning as his brother thrust against him, his cock hard and hot, like a fire brand. "Oh God Sam...oh God." 

Sam's hands moved over Dean, ran up his body, one hand going to the back of Dean's head, digits threading through the short strands, as Sam tucked his other under Dean, hefted us hips upward, toward his own thrusting hips, grinding their erections together as his tongue plundered his brother's mouth. 

After a few more minutes, Sam rolled them, Dean on top of him, hand on Dean's head, holding him, keeping their lips crushed together, as his other hand ran down to Dean's ass, dipping under the material of his jeans, his boxers to cup warm skin, pressing him down hard as Sam thrust up against him, a half groan half growl leaving him.

Seeing his brother like this, on fire, and so fucking possessive in the way he was holding him, like his hands belonged everywhere they touched, like Dean belonged to him... it did things to Dean, made him feel things he'd never imagined. He started to thrust, fucking down on Sam, bringing their groins together again and again, harder, faster, and letting Sam tongue fuck him until they were both breathless. Then it would start again. Flames licked at him, burned him up as he became more desperate in his movements. He didn't even think he could work their jeans all the way off, not the way he needed Sam right now, rode him with a single-minded need to find release.

Sam's grip tightened on Dean, both hands, like he was afraid his brother might suddenly disappear and this would be yet another daydream, another fantasy he had gotten lost in when he was suppose to be paying attention to what Dean was saying, like he had so many other times lately. Fingers dug into tender flesh, no doubt leaving bruises behind, his finger's threaded through Dean's short hair nearly pulling on the short silken strands as he bucked his hips harder, moans and gasps leaving him, swallowed up in their joined lips, as each fought for dominance in the kiss. 

Tearing his lips from Dean's, Sam swore softly, "Fuck," the word a breathless whisper, just as he rolled them back again. Dipping his head, teeth nipping, rough bites across Dean's neck. "Can't get enough," Sam's hot breath fanned against Dean's skin as he spoke the whispered, breathless words, his hips moving hard, thrusting and grinding against his brother's. 

Sam's need slammed into Dean full force. "Right here, right here Sam," he groaned as his brother got rougher, his teeth scraping, his hands moving with bruising force. "Shshsh, I've got you," he lifted his hips higher, giving them both the pressure they needed. "Think about my mouth on you, sucking.... swallowing your cock." 

Sam groaned, eyes rolling up as he slowly closed them, forehead against Dean's temple, breaths panting out against his brother's cheek. "Show me." Sam whispered breathlessly.

Dean was so fucking close to coming, the request took him by surprise. He stopped thrusting, stopped moving, trying to get a hold of himself, struggling to find the last shreds of his control so he could give Sam what he wanted. Never could say 'no' to him. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he swallowed and gripped Sam's hips. "Move up."

With some help, Sam had his jeans off and was on his knees, straddling Dean's chest. Lips parted, Dean ran his hand over his brother's cock, so hard, so fucking hard for him... he could feel it pulse, could feel Sam nudging it toward his mouth. He would have smirked at the intense look on his brother's face, if he could. 

Sticking his wet tongue out, he licked the underside of Sam's dick, from base to tip. He repeated the motion, his heart lurching as Sam made his impatience known.   
Sam gazed down at his brother out of lowered lids over passion-glazed eyes. His breath leaving him in a hiss as his brother's warm wet tongue ran up the underside of his cock. _Fuck!_ He couldn't wait, couldn't stand to let Dean play, not now, not this time. Oh God, all he wanted, what he _needed_ was to _feel_. Feel his brother, feel his hands, his mouth, his desire...for him. Desire to match his own.  
"Okay Sam, fuck my mouth," he said hoarsely, guiding Sam inside and taking as much of him as he could.

Sam gasped softly at Dean's words, bit his lip as his hands raised to press his palms against the wall behind them, his hips rocking as he slowly moved his cock in and out of his brother's mouth, between those full, soft lips. Sam's eyes slowly squeezed closed, unable to look down at his brother any more without coming right then, head tilted back, a muffled moan escaping through tightly pressed lips.

_Holy fuck,_ the way Sam was leaning back and pushing up off the wall... Dean was right back in that Goddamned exercise room all over again. As he moved his mouth up and down with slow, deliberate movements, his gaze was glued on his brothers rippling and straining abs. Unable to help himself, he moved his palm up and down from Sam's belly to his chest, gripping, touching, and memorizing the cuts and planes of his body. So fucking hot... his Sammy was so damn hot.

Sam's hips began moving faster, as if on their own accord. He'd intended to be careful, not to force his brother to take too much, not to lose control, but now, control wasn't even a fleeting thought as he rocked his hips with abandonment, moans and groans escaping him. One hand curled into a fist against the wall as he grit his teeth. His balls drawing up, he felt the warmth coil in his lower belly. Hips moved erratically as his head tilted back. "OH GOD DEEEAN!" Sam cried out as the first shot of his jism spilled into his brother's mouth.

Dean gripped Sam's hips and ass, holding him in place as he kept sucking and bringing him home. Sam's cry, the other little sounds he was making, and the uncontrolled movements of his body wound Dean up tighter and tighter. By the time Sam was done, Dean was near breaking point. He pulled Sam down and half rolled over him, groaning when he was able to trap Sam's thigh between his legs. 

As Sam's back hit the bed, he blinked up at his brother, arms slowly moving in his post-orgasmic haze to wrap around Dean, holding him tight against him, even as his brother trapped his thigh between his legs.

Lowering his head, he kissed Sam, letting him taste himself, and thrusting wildly against his thigh... needing so badly to come. "Say my name again, please," he pleaded, grinding harder and harder, sure his skin would be raw later, but unable to care. "Sam, please."  
Sam moaned into the kiss, finding that the combined flavor of himself and Dean was not all that bad, Dean's soft, swollen lips inviting and intoxicating. When Dean pulled his lips away, Sam's head rose off the mattress slightly to chase after him, only to have Dean ask him to say his name again. Sam lowered his head, a small smile pulling at his lips as his eyes closed slowly. His free leg wrapped around Dean's hips, crushing him harder against his thigh. "Mmm, Dean..." Sam said his name softly, bit his bottom lip.

With a sharp intake of breath, Sam opened his eyes and released his lip, pushing Dean back, as he shook his head. "My turn. Wanna make you feel just as good big brother." Sam told him softly, as he pressed Dean back against the mattress, slowly slid his body down Dean's, one hand sliding down to Dean's leaking erection, gripping him firmly as hazel eyes looked up into Dean's face.

"Can't wait, Sam," Dean answered, frustrated by the jeans that still partially trapped his fucking legs. Needing it hard and fast, needing it now, Dean closed his hand over Sam's and started to make him stroke up and down his shaft... "don't you stop, Sammy," he breathed, lifting his hips, eyes glazing over as he chased his release. 

Sam pumped his brother's cock, his free hand tugging down at his jeans as he lowered himself down, on his brother. Sam dipped his head, taking the head of Dean's cock into his mouth, sucking, flicking his tongue on the underside just under the crown as his hand continued to move, a soft moan escaping him as his eyes slid slowly closed.

The sight of his cock in Sam's mouth almost unmanned him. Dean groaned, slipped his hand over the back of his brother's head and started to push him down, helping him find the rhythm he needed. "Oh God, oh God... I'm gonna die... oh fuck," he started to thrash, afraid he was gonna hurt Sam with his movements, yet unable to control himself. He came hard, shouting Sam's name, gripping Sam’s head, his shoulder, forcing him to keep taking his cock, keep sucking until the last waves of heat receded, and he dropped back onto the pillow. 

His chest heaved, he stared at the ceiling, then started to pull at Sam to crawl up his body. "I don't care if we go to hell for this Sam. I'm not sorry we did it," he said defiantly.

Sam crawled back up his brother's body, laying himself out beside him, his body pressed close to Dean's. Sam nodded before he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his brother's lips. "Not sorry, Dean. Could never be sorry." Sam told him softly as he gazed down at him.  
Taking a deep breath, Sam bit his lip, let it out slowly, as he looked away from Dean for a moment before looking back. "As for hell... I think we've already met all the inmates. Not so sure we'd be welcome there anyway." Sam told him, a slight smile pulling at his lips.

That got a bark of laughter from Dean, who put his arms around Sam. "Or we could be cell mates..." It was still fucking wrong, but Dean couldn't be bothered to worry about it. "Do you know what the third envelope said?"

Sam chuckled softly at his brother's negative joke. Leave it to Dean to find a way to turn it bad again. He shook his head and sighed softly as Dean put his arm around him. Well, at least he wasn't walking out this time. Wasn't making Sam feel like he'd totally fucked up again. 

Sam frowned at his brother's question. Third envelope? Did Dean read all of those things? "No, what did it say?" Sam asked him, only to get nothing back. "Dean?" Sam said again, as he looked down at his brother, to find his eyes closed, face relaxed, breathing evenly. _Asleep. He was asleep._ Sam huffed and shook his head. _Figures._

Looking over toward his things and the envelopes laying on top, Sam wondered again just what that envelope said.

* * *

It was early. Damned early, like the sun was only now rising. But Dean was already in the shower. They'd gone to bed before eight so it was no wonder he was up. It had been a helluva night. He remembered the loneliness, the pain that had driven him to the bottle. He remembered Sam's hard expression when he'd come in to find him on the floor. He remembered the hopeless feelings that swamped him.

Then they were in that tight hallway, and bam... it all changed again. He didn't think there was any sight better than seeing Sammy on fire like that. Baby bro on edge and demanding... not something he'd ever imagined. Hell, it made him hard just thinking about it.

*

Sam rolled over, his hand automatically going to the spot that Dean had been in on the bed, only to find him not there. Slowly, he let his eyes flutter open as he raised his head and looked around the room. Gone. He was gone again. But, then he heard the shower running and let his head fall back onto the pillow with a sigh. 

Glancing over at the envelopes again, Sam bit his lip. Making up his mind, he untangled the sheet and bedspread from around himself and pulled from the bed, going to the envelopes, Sam snatched up the one marked with a 3 and headed back to the bed as he tore it open. Laying back down as he pulled the paper from inside. Sam's eyes moved across the page as he read the contents, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

Setting the paper down on the bed, Sam made his way toward the bathroom door, letting his clothes fall off as he walked, leaving a trail behind him. Silently pushing the bathroom door open, he stepped into the shower behind Dean. " Morning," he told him softly, as he stepped up close to him, letting the warmth radiating from his brother's body seep into his skin and warm him in more ways than temperature.

"Hey!" There was like two inches clearance now between his face and the tile. This was definitely not a two-person shower. But the slide of Sam's body against him stole any other protests he might have had. That and the realization that maybe they really wouldn't have any drama over what happened. He'd been worrying about that and Sam's bold entrance put that to rest.

Turning slowly, he smiled. "You look like someone kissed and fucked the hell out of you," he teased, leaning in and stealing a kiss, like it was the most normal thing ever between them. 

Sam smiled at his brother, his head hung shyly for a brief moment, before he looked back up at him, "Well, half of that description is true enough," Sam told him softly, taking the small half step forward that had Dean bumping into the wall behind them, "But the other, we still have to work on." Sam told him, as his head dipped, his lips sliding across Dean's before he kissed a trail down his jaw to his neck, moaning softly against his brother's skin.

"Is that right?" Dean gave a low chuckle, not taking Sam seriously even for one second. On the other hand, the heat going through his system every time Sam's mouth touched him... that he took very seriously. His cock was already paying strict attention. Moving his hand up his brother's back, he slid it back down to his ass, bringing him closer so they were touching everywhere. "There's no room for that, or for anything much in here." It was true, neither of them could get on their knees to even attempt a blow job.  
Sam slowly pulled his head back, looking into Dean's eyes for a moment before a slow predatory smile slid across his lips before he dipped his head again, mouth near Dean's ear, he ran his tongue along his neck up to his ear lobe. "I dunno about that. Depends on what you had in mind... Just imagine my hands all over you, teasing, caressing you. My hand on your hard cock, as my mouth crushes yours. My tongue thrusting in and out, showing you exactly what I want to do to your body." Sam whispered, his breath warm, ghosting over Dean's flesh. Sam's arm lifted slightly before wrapping around his brother, pulling him up hard against the length of his body, his erection against Dean's hip.

_What the fuck!_ Dean's breath was sucked out of his body. This was his brother, his baby brother... he was being so fucking graphic, so unlike Sam. Wait... he had to have read envelope three. Holy hell, if this was a sample of 'conversational sex' with Sam, Dean was toast. There was no way he could have ‘face-to-face phone sex’ with Sam, then not touch him for six hours...

"Oh, wait," Sam breathed the words softly, "You probably wanted to go slower, didn't want me to fuck your mouth before I fucked your body so soon, huh? Wanted to be able to tell yourself that it wasn't like we had done all that. It was just a blow job, and that you had just done it for Sammy, because Sammy wanted it, Sammy needed it." His spoke words quietly as his other hand went to Dean's cock and began slowly moving. "Guess you also wouldn't want to think about my lifting you up off your feet, right here, right now, lowering you down on my hard dick and thrusting deep into your ass, huh Dean? Probably wouldn't want to think about that at all."

As Dean writhed against Sam, pressing to get closer, needing the pressure, the closeness, he didn't miss the edge to Sam's words. The accusation buried in them. Had he been justifying what they were doing by claiming to do it for Sam? He couldn't think right now, but it wasn't beyond him. Sam knew him too well. 

Apparently he knew him better than Dean knew himself, because the mental image of being lifted up and forced down over Sam's cock drew a loud moan out of him. No, he didn't want to take Sam up his ass... it wasn't that, it was just thinking about how much Sam must want it, how much he must need it to even go there like this. That's what was making Dean so thick and hard, so crazy with need. Trying to take his mind off it, or the edge off, he soaped his hands and started running them up and down Sam's back, his ass, his thighs... all the while, gripped in lust, always moving, always fucking against his brother.

"Hmm.." Sam made the sound against Dean's neck as his mouth dipped to nip at his brother's skin, "Better to think that you're still the good soldier, after all Sammy's never been the good kid anyway. But, you've always sacrificed to take care of me." Sam slowly pulled his head back and looked at his brother, "What bothers you more Dean? The idea of fucking your brother or the idea that when you fuck your brother, your baby brother might just be the one in control, the one fucking _you_?" Sam asked him, eyes dark and heavy lidded.

Dean's blood shot to his temples. Gripping his brother's hips, he growled, "shut up, Sam."

A small smile pulled at Sam's lips as he tilted his head, "Don't want to let go and lose control now do you, Dean?" Sam asked him, hazel eyes staring intently into green a moment before Sam's lips crushed against Dean's.

The instant he parted his lips, Sam's tongue was inside his mouth, fucking him... just like Sam had said. With Sam moving so hard against him, dammit, all Dean could think about was being picked up... Fuck, that was just too much. He had to get a grip... he had to show Sam how wrong he was with his theories. This had to stop, now.

Adrenalin shot through Dean's system, as he tried to wrest control from his brother. Battled his tongue, battled his body, moving with all the aggression he could muster. "I'll have you under me, Sam. Under me, and crying my name... begging. Your legs wrapped around my waist, your heels digging into my back, that's how it is Sam... that's how," he insisted, moving his mouth over Sam's again, ignoring the sliver of doubt niggling in the back of his mind.

Dean's words warmed Sam's blood, made his already hard cock that much harder as he pressed and ground his hips against his brother. A small chuckle worked out of Sam, "You sure about that? Then you couldn't blame it on me, then you'd have to admit that you wanted this, that you did this and not just for me, but for you too." Sam's free hand ran up to cup the back of Dean's head, digits digging into his scalp as his grip tightened. His tongue thrusting into Dean's mouth as his other hand continued to pump Dean's dick in fluid strokes, slightly faster than before. 

Sam pulled his lips away slightly, they moved against Dean's as he spoke, "Tell me how much you want it Dean, that you're not doing it for little Sammy, but for you. Tell me that and I'll give you what you want. If not, I'll take what I want and to hell with it." Sam told him softly, before stroking again, his large hands at Dean's waist, Sam started to lift him off his feet, muscles in his arms straining with the effort.

Dean did want him, wanted him bad. Hadn't he made that clear before? He didn't know why Sam didn't get that, yeah... yeah he did, Sam thought he was pretending to do this for Sam. The thing of it was, he did want Sam under him, but the rough way his brother was holding him, threatening to have his way excited Dean even more. Just like when he thought about Sam manhandling him in that hallway... the way he'd threatened to take him over his shoulder.

Hardly able to breath, indecision warring inside him, Dean was struck dumb. He licked his lips, not knowing what to ask for... wanting it all.

Then the water went freezing cold. "Sonovabitch!" He practically pushed Sam out, and followed, grabbing towels for each of them. "You don't think they're watching or something, do you?" he growled. "You know fantasy three... ‘no doing anything or getting off’. That cold water came at just the right time." Yeah, he was a coward. His body was raging but he was willing to forget everything they talked about for the moment rather than face truths he didn't wanna know about. If Sam wanted to exchange bjs, well he'd do that, but ...

Sam nearly stumbled backward outta the shower, his hands falling away from his brother. He huffed and shook his head, nearly snatching the towel away from Dean. _Yeah, Dean. They're watching us because they're perverts and they just wanna see you give in and not be perfect. Yeah, that's it exactly._ Sam dried off quickly, wrapping the towel around his waist before he even tried to look over at his brother. "Next time, you might not have cold water to save you," he grumbled, before turning to walk out the door and back into the bedroom.

Dean stormed after him. "What the hell, Sam?" He totally got that Sam was frustrated. Like he wasn't? "I didn't do that or... I don't know what you're mad about but if you want me to..." he nodded toward Sam's cock, covered by a towel. "I'll take care of that. Six hours is a long wait," he smirked.

Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother and sighed. "Take care of it huh? And just how do you think to do that?" he asked him, before glancing at the bed and giving a nod toward it before looking back at his brother, "Sure, go lay down over there and I'll go find something to use as lube." Sam told him, hazel eyes locked on green. He was testing Dean, pushing him and he knew it, but he needed Dean to really know himself that he wanted this before anything happened. He wasn't going to let them do something and then have Dean go all silent on him for days, not even able to look him in the eye.

"Whoa...." Dean raised his hand up. "Just offering a blow job or hand job." Eyes locked with Sam's, he wondered what the hell was going inside his brother's head. "I am not taking it up the ass, Sam. Not even for you." 

Sam nodded before hanging his head, "Yeah..." he sighed. _But it's alright for me to in your eyes._ Sam turned and walked over toward his stuff, "I'm good, thanks."

Letting him be, Dean got dressed. When he turned, he saw Sam was almost clothed. Almost... his jeans were undone and sending Dean's mind straight into the gutter. "Lets get some breakfast, then maybe go for a walk." Two things he knew... he didn't want them to spend the day separately again, and he couldn't stand the thought of being in this small space for hours when Sam was clearly in a bitchy mood.


	5. Chapter 5

A couple of hours later, they sat facing each other, straddling a tree trunk that served as a bridge over a narrow trickling stream. They'd been talking about everything but sex, and thinking of nothing but sex. The way they were looking at each other, it was impossible for either of them not to know the truth.

Squirming, Dean dragged his gaze away from the sliver of skin showing at Sam's waist. "I wish there was something to hunt..."

_Funny, seems all I've been doing is 'hunting'._ Sam toyed aimlessly with the bark of the log as he thought about his brother's words. "Something we knew how to handle? Familiar territory?" They were questions Sam didn't really expect answers to. He sighed heavily, licking his lips. "Some things are just too hard...""

_He knew all about 'too hard.'_ "Yeah, something like that." Dean ran his hand over one eye and looked back at Sam. "There's nothing to do here."

Sam huffed and nodded, looking away, "Yeah. Nothing safe, huh?" he asked, muscle in his jaw twitching.

Dean gave him a hard stare. "Okay spit it out, whatever it is. I know you're angry about something... whatever it is, just get it out there because I sure as hell don't know what it is." He was sick of this, one minute Sam was okay with the situation, then he wasn't or he was harboring some sort of resentment.

Sam huffed before looking back at his brother. "Wrong? Nothing's wrong, Dean. I just find it rather interesting that as long as you can hide behind the idea that this is _for me_ , or if you think you are going to be the one in control then it's fine, but the idea of you letting go, you loosening up..." Sam stared intently into his brother's eyes for a moment before he finished, "It scares the hell out of you... doesn't it?"

"Sam, I am _not_ hiding behind that, dammit." He met his brother's stare, unable to deny the rest. 

Sam nodded, looking away again and sighed, "Yeah, okay." He pulled to his feet then, stretching and yawning. "I think I'm gonna go for a walk. You wanna come?"

Giving a one-shouldered shrug, Dean put his hands on the log and scooted forward three times, to hop down over dry land, next to Sam. "Let's do it. Maybe we'll be lucky and find a vampire or a shapeshifter or snakes," he tried to joke, but from the look on Sam's face, it fell flat.

Sam looked at his brother for a long moment, no smile, his expression unreadable. "Did you read envelope number four?" he asked Dean softly. "Do you..." Sam licked his lips, looked away with a sigh, before looking back at Dean, "Do you think we can do what it says?"

So that's what was bugging Sam. "I read it." A long moment passed, before he nodded. "Sure we can, Sammy. It's just a blindfold."

Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother, "And it's just sex with me too, but that's got you freaked..." he grumbled under his breath as he looked away, hung his head. "Yeah, okay. So, uh, who wears the blindfold?" Sam asked as he started walking slowly away.

Freaked? Who the hell wouldn't be freaked? And he wasn't THAT freaked. Staring daggers at his brother's head, Dean followed and put his hand on his back. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle," he smirked. Maybe if he gave Sam the sexual work out of his life, he'd drop the bitch-tude. "So... its that envelope that’s got you all wound up? Didn't take you for kinky," he gave a chuckle, even as an undeniable thrill of excitement ran through him.

Sam jumped slightly when he felt Dean's hand on his back, looking over his shoulder at his brother he frowned slightly. _He'll_ be gentle? Sam huffed and shook his head. "I'm not....kinky...." he grumbled softly, head hanging once more.

"What do you call wanting to be blindfolded?" Dean raised his brow. 

Sam looked at his brother as though he were crazy, "I didn't say _I_ wanted to be blindfolded. I was talking about _you_ being blindfolded."

"Me?" Laughing, Dean drew him close and whispered in his ear. "Nah uh, but Sam, baby... just think about the things I'm gonna do to you." That got Dean thinking, and he couldn't bear to pull away. 

Sam pulled his head back, looked at his brother for a moment, before dipping his head beside Dean's ear, "I was thinking about the things I was gonna do to you actually. Run my tongue over you, suck you, and tease you until you can't stand it, then open you up nice and slow for me..." Sam nipped Dean's earlobe, "But, I won't be gentle."

A sharp gasp escaped Dean as his entire body clenched in reaction to his brother's threats. Once again, he was thinking of the not-so-gentle Sam he'd been catching glimpses of. It confused him... both that his brother could be so different during sex, and his own reaction to it. "Sorry Sam, it's not going that way," he whispered, rubbing the pad of his thumb over Sam's mouth and watching as it reddened slightly. 

Sam quickly leaned his head forward, lips parted he caught Dean's thumb between his lips, sucking it into his mouth as hazel eyes gazed into green. Sam's cheeks hollowed as he suckled his brother's thumb, before he released the digit, allowing it to fall from his lips. "Sure about that?" Sam asked him, his voice soft, dangerous.

_Fuck..._ Between the way Sam sucked on him and that hard glint in his eyes contrasting with the soft way he'd asked his question, Dean's insides were in all sorts of tangles. A part of him wanting what his brother offered, another hating the idea. Mostly... Sam had been right, he was scared of losing control, and the idea that his little brother would be in the driver's seat... that just went against everything, all of their history. "Shut up, Sam." His voice was shaky as he tried to pull away.

Sam moved quickly, his arm going around Dean, holding him in place, yanking him up against Sam's body. "You trust me to cover your ass, but not..." Sam smirked slightly, looking distinctly predatory, "cover your ass." He released Dean abruptly, "Okay. Jerk."

He'd been held so fucking tight, he was sure Sam's body left an imprint on him. When his brother let him go, Dean was breathing a bit hard. "Bitch..." he just barely managed, giving him a nod. 

Licking his lips, he headed into the woods, trying not to look at Sam, not to want him any way he could get him. "Now we just gotta waste four more hours..."

Sam quirked a brow and shook his head. Yeah. Waste four more hours. What the hell were they gonna do that didn't involve touching, kissing or... more? Sam ran a hand through his hair as he walked, tried not looking over at his brother, not looking at his ass as he walked, or the way he moved, the way his lips parted every so often before his tongue would dart out to moisten them. Yeah... wasn't gonna look at that. 

* * *

It was amazing how you could get used to being hard all the time. At least that's what Dean told himself as he took another swig of his beer and resisted the urge to stroke Sam's hair. They'd eaten dinner, knowing what was coming afterwards, but each resisting the need to get started until the clock struck the hour... like the envelope said. 

Dean was sitting on the sofa, and Sam was on the floor next to him, staring at the television, and occasionally looking up at him. Whenever their eyes met, a strong current of heat passed between them. The hell with this. Dean put his hand on Sam's shoulder, and stroked up to his neck, massaging it. "Almost midnight, Cinderella..." How the fuck was he gonna last the remaining fifteen minutes? 

A tingle of warmth shot through Sam from where his brother touched him, pooling in his already hard cock, making it even harder. Shifting uncomfortably Sam nodded and took a drink of his own beer, licking his lips after. "Yeah... how are you gonna handle turning into my pumpkin?" Sam asked him, before slowly raised his head and looked up at his brother.

Mesmerized by the sight of Sam's tongue darting out, Dean blinked. "Your pumpkin? I've been called a lot of things before, but not that. You know, like... jackhammer," he waggled his brows. 

Sam huffed and shook his head as he pulled to his feet, "I'll go get the blindfold and we can talk more about pumpkin vs jackhammer, I guess." Sam grumbled under his breath.

"Can't wait, huh." He lifted the bottle up, "it's that rebel in you. I'll be right here. Waiting." If he could have shoved Sam to move faster, without giving away how anxious he was to get started, Dean would have. 

Sam huffed as he headed for the bedroom. _Rebel in me... right... whatever._

He walked into the bedroom grabbing up the fourth envelope and tipping it upside down, letting the silken black scarf fall out onto the bed. Sam stood staring down at the scrap of material for a few moments, before reaching for it, tossing the envelope back onto the bed. As his fingers hit the silky fabric, Sam closed his eyes and sighed softly. Images of the black blindfold wrapped around Dean's eyes flashing in his mind. Dean... face slightly flushed, those full ripe lips slightly parted, breaths panting out, the scarf covering his eyes as Sam did what he wanted to him without Dean being able to feel bad about it, without looking at him like he was sick, or...kinky as Dean had put it. Sam groaned softly, before opening his eyes again, snatching up the silk and turning to walk back into the living room, jaw tight. 

Entering the room, Sam tossed the scrap of fabric at Dean, "Here." he told him, sounding much more angry than he meant to.

Dean caught it, and stretched the fabric out. "C'mere," he looked up and crooked his finger, "sit on my lap and.. What? What's wrong now?" He knew something was up but was fucking clueless. If he didn't know better, he'd say his brother was PMSing.

Sam was glaring hard at him and he knew it, but he couldn't seem to help himself. "Nothing's wrong." Sam mumbled at him, before tearing his gaze away. He swallowed, licked his lips and looked back, "Sit on your lap and what? Let you put that thing on me?" Sam shook his head, "No way. Not going that way, Dean. Sorry to break it to ya."

Dean got up and ran the hand that held the scarf up Sam's chest and neck, cupping the side of his face with the black fabric hanging down in two strips. "I thought you wanted this," he said thickly, a little angry himself that the whole waiting thing might have been a sham. Leaning in, he slanted his mouth over Sam's in an angry kiss and pulled away. "What's it gonna be, Sam. Make up your mind."

Sam's eyes narrowed at his brother's words as he pulled away. _Make up my mind?_ With quick movements, Sam jerked the scarf away from his brother, shoving him back against the wall as he did, his lips crushing against Dean's in a heated angry kiss as he used his body to keep his brother pinned, Sam's hands worked to place the scarf over Dean's eyes, tying it around his head roughly, before he tore his lips away from Dean's. 

Still using his body to pin Dean to the wall, Sam grabbed his brother's wrists and held them spread out from his body against the wall, hazel eyes searching his brother's face. "There..." he said softly, "Decision made."

Sam's impulsive move took Dean by surprise, not that he was complaining when their mouths met. He wanted this... he'd been afraid Sam was backing out, and he'd been about three seconds from heading for the bathroom to take care of himself. Now Sam was on him, hot... and angry... and demanding, using his body like a godamned weapon, to shove, to trap him, and his wildness took Dean's breath away. By the time the brutal kiss was over, Dean found himself blindfolded and arranged against the wall with his brother's hot breath a caress against his cheek. "Sammy," he shook his head 'no', but he was on fire. No doubt about that.

Sam smirked at his brother, ignoring the shake of his head as he dipped his own head down to kiss along Dean's neck before biting into the tender flesh, his tongue running across the abused skin to sooth it. "Yeah, Dean?" he asked him, warm breath ghosting over the area.

"I..." Dean's eyes, forced slightly open under the scarf, shifted back and forth... wanting to know, to see what Sam was up to. Feeling Sam's soft mouth press against his throat, he moaned, and tried to get his thoughts in order. Finding that his arms were still pinned into place, he licked his lips. "Not what I had in mind."

Sam smirked against Dean's neck, "Yeah, I know." he told him, voice a husky whisper, "Too bad it wasn't what I had in mind either... you need to be undressed for this."

"Can we talk about this?" He tried to move his hand to take the scarf off. 

Sam pulled his head back and looked at his brother, tilted his head to the side, "What's there to talk about, Dean? You want me, I want you...right?" Sam shook his head and took a step back, hands still holding Dean's wrists pinned against the wall. "I need to find..." Sam's eyes darted about the room, "Something..." he searched for something to fasten Dean's wrists together with. 

"I know, but..." he tested his wrists again, cursing softly. "What... what do you need to find?" A tingle of fear and excitement traveled along Dean's spine, and had his heart slamming against his chest. Nah, it wasn't going down this way, he didn't think he could take it. This time Dean meant it when he pushed back. Just like that, they were struggling against each other. He managed to break Sam's hold over one of his wrists but just as he tried to snatch the damned scarf off, Sam was pulling at his shirt.

Heat ignited between them. They fought to get clothes off each other, fought to get the upper hand, fought to be on top as they rolled on the ground, hitting furniture with almost every movement. "Sonova... Sam, calm your ass down!" On top of his brother, this time pinning Sam's arms, Dean lowered his head, messily hitting Sam's cheek before blindly finding his mouth and pushing his tongue inside. He tongue fucked him hard, and slow... trying to make him see this was how it was going down.

Still reeling from everything that had just happened and struggling to regain control of the situation, Sam wasn't expecting to find Dean's tongue thrusting into his mouth. He moaned softly, relaxing under Dean for the moment, just enjoying the feel of Dean's lips and tongue against his own. 

Tearing his mouth away after a moment, Sam gazed up at his brother, his breathing labored, and coming out in soft pants, eyes heavy lidded. "Not gonna stay this way long... enjoy it while you can," he told him with a slight grin, one that held delicious promise.

He pulled Sam's arms up over his head. "Why not?" he demanded. Lifting and knocking his brother's wrists down hard against the ground. The scarf had fallen around his neck now, so he could see Sam clearly. "Why?"

Sam gazed up at his brother, trying to decide if he should actually tell him 'why'... or if he should let Dean figure it out himself. Finally, Sam licked his lips, "Because you don't want it this way any more than I do," he told him softly.

Dean's chest heaved. He felt like Sam could see right through him... right through, and he didn't like it. Not one bit. A muscle pulsed in his jaw, even as he shook his head 'no.' But his body's response to Sam's answer was unmistakable. A part of him had liked being in the dark... being at Sam's mercy. A part of him responded too fucking intensely to being manhandled by his baby brother, and that pissed him the hell off.

Releasing Sam, he dragged his gaze away and started to get up, but was hampered by his jeans which had been pulled down to his thighs. "I don't know what I want. Or if I even want this anymore," he answered finally, his voice unsteady.

Sam didn't answer, only sat up and moved quick, one hand reaching out to grab at Dean's jeans, yanking them down hard and fast before he pulled half up, tackling Dean backward like a football player would an opponent, only slamming Dean backward against the wall, instead of tackling him to the floor. 

Pinning Dean against the wall once more, his hips crushed hard against Dean's, Sam reached up, pulling the blindfold back up over Dean's eyes. "Let me help you make that decision, once and for all." Sam told him quietly, as he dipped his head, mouth trailing over Dean's neck, downward toward his collarbone, shoulder, chest. Sam's hands pinning Dean's hands spread wide against the wall as they stood there in a corner, one of Dean's palms pressed against one wall, the other on the neighboring wall.

Biting his lower lip, Dean just barely kept himself from groaning. Stripped naked and blindfolded, he felt so fucking vulnerable. He could stop this, he could make Sam stop, could tell him he didn't like it... didn't like the way he was forced to brace his hands on the walls to keep from falling into the air space where the walls met... didn't like the way Sam's mouth was roving over his body, like he fucking owned him... didn't like being told what to do. But the words stuck in his throat.

Sam adjusted his grip on Dean's wrists as he bent slightly, mouth, teeth, and tongue running along Dean's chest, stopping at one male nipple to swirl his tongue around the nub before biting down, head pulled back slightly before releasing his hold, then doing the same with it's twin. 

Moving to kneel down in front of his brother, Sam's mouth continued lower across his chest his stomach, his tongue flicking into his belly button and out, over and over, before nipping at the skin. "How's that decision coming" Sam asked him, his voice a passion raw whisper.

Heat surged straight to Dean's cock. He was nudging his body as far forward as he could, pressing against Sam's mouth. "Damn you... Damn you Sammy," he croaked, his arms straining as he resisted the urge to let the wall go and grab his brother. “Damn you.”

Sam smiled against the skin of Dean's stomach, "That well, huh?" he mumbled, before continuing lower, kissing the inside of his brother's thigh, his tongue running over the flesh and short hairs, before doing the same to his other thigh making his way upward toward Dean's groin, but not touching him there.

Pulling his head back, Sam looked up at his brother. "Hold still. Trust me. I'd never do anything you wouldn't like, Dean," Sam told him softly before leaning in again, his tongue trailing up the underside of Dean's hard cock, flicking the tip, before he lowered his head again, licking at Dean's balls, slowly sucking one into his mouth, then the other, before letting go and running his tongue back, the tip flicking against Dean's tightly puckered hole.

He'd have to get Sam back for his smugness later, but Christ... the things his mouth was doing to him. Each time Dean thought Sam's tongue would go in one direction, he felt a wet touch elsewhere. It was driving him crazy, wanting, anticipating... not knowing. Just as he was about to order his brother to take him in his mouth already, Sam's tongue slipped passed his balls, touching him ever so lightly. 

Dean jerked away from the touch, his breath catching as he tried to deal with the bolt of pleasure streaking through him. Had it been accidental? He didn't know... he just waited, breathing heavily, but not saying a word... not knowing what to hope for.

Sam had paused, swallowed, waiting to see if his brother was going to yell at him, or allow him to continue. When Dean held still, Sam figured he was safe to keep going and let his tongue flick out again, the tip once more flicking across Dean’s tight hole. 

Sam adjusted the way he was kneeling, moved slightly closer, and slid Dean's hands down against the wall so his brother could lean further forward. Letting his tongue press against the virgin hole before Sam made his tongue more straight, thrusting against the hole, opening his brother slowly up.

"S...sam..." His brother's name came out in a hiss as Dean gripped the wall as well as he could. The wet probing over what had to be a bundle of incredibly sensitive nerves because... God... he'd never felt anything like this... ever... had him craving more. It had to be wrong to want to jam himself down over Sam's tongue, to want him to penetrate further... it had to be. It had to be wrong that he was getting hard and heavy, just thinking about it, just needing it. He threw his head back and took a deep breath, trying to hold back a cry... _Please... please..._

Sam moaned out a "hmm?" but didn't pull his head away, only continued thrusting his tongue against and into Dean's tight hole, flicking his tongue inside once he had him opened slightly, curling and flicking his tongue against the inner walls as far as he could reach.

"Oh God..." Dean's hand slipped off the wall. He found Sam's shoulder, moved his hand back and forth and figured out Sam was still facing him. The realization had him imagining the scene, and his fingers dug into Sam, moaning as Sam's tongue pushed further inside him, so wet, so fucking hot. "What are you doing to me?" he asked, knowing there was more... there had to be.

Sam slowly moved his hand away from the wall, bringing it down between his brother's legs. A single digit, his index finger, toyed around the outside of Dean's opening as Sam licked and jabbed his tongue into his brother before slowly inserting the tip of his finger beside his tongue. 

Sam pushed more saliva upward from his mouth against Dean's hole, helping to make his finger slick so he could slip it further inside without hurting Dean. His other hand, kept Dean pinned firmly against the wall as he worked, sliding his finger in, and out, letting it slip in further on each upward thrust. 

A strangled cry broke from Dean. The pleasure/pain, the shock of this new invasion, the surprise that he wasn't so much hating it as wanting to find out what came next. How far this would... could ...go. Dean was having trouble dealing with all of the thoughts and feelings coursing through him. He jerked his hips forward, felt Sam's cheek brush his now rock hard cock. White hot heat flooded his system. All he knew was he wanted more, more. "Christ sakes... are you done playing?" he snapped.

His finger lodged in his brother's ass, Sam pulled his head back, and looked up at him out of passion-glazed eyes. "No." the word croaked out of his throat, raw and raspy.   
Sam crooked his finger inside his brother, feeling a tight little bump deep inside his brother's ass at the tip of his finger. Straightening his finger, he brushed across the small bump again, a soft groan leaving him as he watched his brother's face.

As Sam's finger went deep inside him, everything went blurry for Dean. He clenched around Sam's finger, "please," he begged, and then Sam touched him just right again. Dean gritted his teeth and threw his head back, trying to control the urge to fuck himself down on his brother's finger. The sensation that ripped through him every time Sam dragged his finger over that one spot in his body that had never been touched before was fierce, like the beginning of a fire storm... so much promise... so much power behind it. "Suck.. Sam, fucking suck me off," he suddenly demanded, his forehead damp with his own sweat.

Sam leaned forward, running his tongue up the underside of his brother's dick, tongue dipping into the slit, tasting his brother's precome before taking the crown into his mouth, his finger in Dean's ass moving the entire time, thrusting and dragging over the small bundle of nerves, then pulling his head back, Sam looked back up at his brother. "No." he told him, shaking his head slowly even though Dean couldn't see it.

Dean had started to carefully thrust, trying to find Sam's mouth... trying to push into it without pulling away from the incredible touches of his finger. The 'no' irritated him. Sliding his hand up behind Sam's head, he forced him closer. "Sam. Do it. Fuck... I need to come... fucking do it."  
Sam allowed his brother to push his head forward, taking Dean's cock into his mouth, Sam moaned softly, his tongue circling around the head before he took him deeper, humming softly as the head of Dean's dick touched the back of this throat. Sam moved his finger faster inside his brother's ass, slowly bringing a second finger up, pressing it in beside the first as his mouth worked Dean's leaking erection.

A short cry broke out of Dean when he was stretched further than he expected, but then he was lost... Sam was sheathing his cock with his mouth, sucking him, feeding that sweet hot ache, making him spiral higher, every time his fingers touched him just so... "Sam, you're killing me... oh God..." He was bucking back and forth, gripped in lust, chasing his release... one step closer to it. 

Sam swallowed against his brother's cock deep as his fingers scissored inside Dean's ass, scraping across that sweet spot. Slowly, Sam's hand on Dean's one wrist relaxed and pulled away, lowering to cup his brother's balls, squeeze gently and run his short blunt nails up the underside as his mouth and fingers worked Dean hard. 

Sam's own cock was so hard it was nearly painful and steadily leaking precome. Pulling his hand from his brother's balls, he gripped his own cock in one hand and started to stroke himself hard in time with his mouth and fingers working his brother, a low growl leaving him.

With Sam's fingers inside him, Dean couldn't ride Sam's mouth the way he needed. Then Sam started to work him harder... from inside, from outside... and Dean couldn't think anymore... the last vestiges of his control broke. Gripping Sam's shouders he stepped closer, almost on top of him Pain be damned, he needed this. His frenzied back and forth motions brought him closer and closer, until he was exploding inside Sam's mouth, and clenching his ass tight... so tight around Sam... burning... and throwing his head back as he shouted Sam's name over and over.

Sam leaned back as far as he could without falling over as Dean stepped closer, his hands and mouth never breaking rhythm. As soon as Dean's cum touched his tongue it seemed, he was coming with him, coating his hand, making him gulp in air through his nose as he fought to keep up the movement of his mouth on his brother's dick. His fingers stilled in Dean's ass only when the muscles clenched down on them, though he continued to curl and straighten his fingers over the bundle of nerves over and over again. 

Finally, Sam pulled his head back, letting his brother's cock fall from his lips with an audible 'pop', his fingers slipping from Dean's ass and looked up at his brother, breaths panting out as he sat there looking up at him, "Now that....we did what the..." Sam swallowed, "envelope said, we need to go into the bedroom."

Still dealing with waves of pleasure, Dean held onto Sam for support with one hand, dragging the scarf off with the other and tossing it down. When their eyes met, he forced himself to ignore the rare sense of embarrassment he felt. Blowing out a few breaths and moving away, he asked, "for...?" Now he braced against the wall, chest heaving as he waited for an answer.

Sam smiled slightly before looking away from his brother, "I wasn't finished with you." he mumbled out, before looking back at him.

Dean cocked his head and looked down at Sam's flaccid cock. "You look finished."

Sam looked up at his brother and mimicked the look on his face, "And you look well fucked, but we never got that far, did we?"

He stared back at Sam for a long moment, his heart rate kicking up a notch even though he'd just come seconds ago. "No." He licked his lips. "We didn't."

Sam kept his eyes locked with Dean's as he spoke, "And you're afraid to."

"Some." He agreed, shaking his head, but not looking away.

Sam slowly moved, rising to his feet to stand before his brother, hazel eyes locked on green. "When you decide you want me..." he licked his lips, eyes searching his brother's face for a moment, before he leaned in, his tongue flicking over Dean's full lips before pulling back. "You know where I'll be." Sam told him softly, before turning to walk down the hall.

Dean watched him go, feeling like he'd lost something the minute Sam disappeared down the hall. Picking up his shirt, he wiped his face... wiped himself clean, and all the while he couldn't get out of his head the fact he'd let Sam do what he'd done... let him penetrate his ass. Worse, he'd fucking liked it. Been unable to ask him to stop. He must have made a funny sight, eyes tied up, body jerking back and forth, begging. 

Rubbing the back of his neck, he reached for the now warm beer, and took a long drink. When he set it down, he remembered Sam's eyes. His brother hadn't been laughing at him, not at all. He wasn't looking at him like he'd changed, turned into something less than a man, either. He'd just looked at him like they had unfinished business.

Swallowing hard, Dean set the bottle down and headed down the hall. His strides were confident and sure, until he was at the door, hesitating.  
*

Sam had walked into the bedroom and grabbed up a towel he had tossed on the floor earlier, wiping his hands on it as he walked over to the bed and let himself fall back on it. He was wondering how this was going to go over with Dean... now that the heat of the moment was over, was he going to clam up and avoid him? That was the normal Dean thing to do when something bothered him, when he felt vulnerable. He sighed and closed his eyes, opening them, when he heard footsteps enter the bedroom and stop. 

Sam stayed as he was, not moving, not speaking, wasn't even sure he was breathing as he looked over at his brother. Waited for the hammer to fall...

The silence stretched between them. It was thick, and explosive... waiting for one of them to strike a match.

"Fuck me." Dean had to force the words out, but once he did, he found himself striding to the bed.

Dean's words, shocked and excited Sam, sending a rush of heat through him as he pushed up from the bed, reaching for his brother. He had tried not to let the shock show on his face, had only swallowed and given a small nod, before pulling Dean to him and slanting his lips over his brother's in a fiercely possessive kiss. 

His hands ran over Dean's back, up through his hair, down to cup his ass and press his body against Sam's own.

_Oh God..._

Pulling his head back slightly, Sam looked into Dean's eyes, he wasn't going to ask him, wasn't going to bring it up again, he knew how hard that had been for Dean to even say the first time, but he had to know for sure. 

Sam turned them slightly, so that the back of Dean's legs his the side of the bed before his lips claimed Dean's once more. Slowly, he pushed his brother back, climbing onto the bed with him, laying himself out on top of his brother's toned muscular body, his hands running slowly up and down his arms, fingers entwining with Dean's as he kissed him.

As Sam covered his body with his, and started to kiss the hell out of him, Dean's body responded. "Sammy," he groaned, trying to get closer, closing his fingers around Sam's. Long moments punctuated by heavy breathing and kissing passed. His hands still clasped with Sam's, he brought them around Sam's back, simultaneously forcing Sam down harder on him, and placing Sam in as vulnerable a position as Sam had put him in. "You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?" He nudged his hips up, "Sometimes I want you so bad... I don't know what to do with myself. I tell myself its gonna go away. We do this for three days and it will." He licked his lips, "I don't think so anymore, Sam."

Sam ground his hips, thrusting against his brother as they kissed, little moans escaping them both as tongues tangled, their kiss swollen lips bruising and crushing against one another. Tearing his lips away from Dean's Sam looked down at his brother, panting heavily. "Dean? What are you doing?" he asked him, ignoring Dean's other words, his comments, his focus on his hands behind his back.

"What am I doing?" Opening his legs wide, he wrapped them around Sam's and pushed his hips up, grinding his hardening groin into his brother's belly. "Ride the pony, Sam... you know what I'm doing."

Sam narrowed his eyes at his brother, before dipping his head, his mouth beside Dean's ear, Sam sighed softly, "Yeah, we'll see who has who begging in a few minutes," he told his brother softly, before continuing to lower his head to Dean's neck, kissing and licking a trail downward to where neck met shoulder then biting, a low growl leaving him.   
Sam bucked his hips against his brother, tugged hard, freeing his hands from around his back.

"I never thought you were a tiger in the sack," Dean laughed, then choked out a cry as his brother's teeth dug into him. He made a sound of disbelief, and though he let Sam slam his hands back on the bed, he worked his legs, back and forth, dragging Sam up and down his body. Biting his lower lip, he started to concentrate on the pressure building inside him. He needed Sam, needed him so bad. "Harder... come on Sammy, or I'm gonna..." he started rolling them.

Sam pushed Dean's hands down against the mattress, pushed up slightly to look down at him. "There's a lot about me you don't know, Dean." he ground out between clenched teeth. 

_Fuck!_ Sam pulled back, busting out of Dean's hold to kneel on the bed between his brother's outstretched legs. "No, uh-uh, not this time." Sam muttered, before reaching over toward the night stand and yanking open the drawer. Sam dipped his hand inside, fished around and pulled out a hand full of small tubes of ointment. 

With a glance up at Dean, Sam looked at each one in turn, quickly reading them, before tossing all but two off the side of the bed. "Ready?" Sam asked him, breathlessly now that he had chosen what lubes he was going to use.

Looking at Sam from between his knees, Dean managed to answer. "That's a little 'interrupty, there. At least you're not reading the fine print." His hand moved to his now aching cock, and he looked defiantly at Sam, squeezing himself and telling himself it would be fine. It's what he wanted. 

Sam sighed and tilted his head to the side, "I could make _you_ read the fine print out loud to me while I tongued you open again," he suggested sarcastically, eyes narrowed.

"You know I don't multi-task." Dean swallowed at the reminder of how Sam's tongue and fingers had felt inside him. What would his cock feel like? What would it feel like to have Sam over him, panting, groaning, pounding into him? He clenched his teeth, just to avoid barking out another order. Sam didn't seem to be taking orders too well tonight.

Sam moved then, leaning down over Dean, holding himself up with one hand as he dipped his head and kissed Dean softly. His tongue, lips, teeth all lingered, drawing the kiss, one that should be rough but wasn't, out. Slowly, Sam pulled his head back and looked down at his brother. "Gonna make you feel good." he told him softly, "Promise." 

Sam sat back on his heels then between Dean's legs, as he opened up one of the tubes and poured the contents into one hand, then rubbed them together to warm the lotion warm on his hands. He reached for Dean's cock at the same time as he reached down, his fingertips ghosting over Dean's tightly puckered hole. He glanced up at his brother, "Relax. I got ya."

As Sam's warm, oil slicked hand closed around his cock, Dean groaned and involuntarily arched his hips. "Good, so good," he said, enjoying the slip slide of Sam's hand over him, but needing more pressure. Then he felt Sam at his hole, and locked gazes with him, trying to relax but it was fucking hard in this position. 

Sam's index finger circled around Dean's hole as his hand continued to pump his cock. He tore his gaze from Dean's to look down, wanted to see. Sam sucked in a ragged breath, bit his lower lip. "So, hot bro." Sam told him as he pressed just the very tip of his finger into Dean. He looked back up at his brother, then moved to lean down over him, as he pulled his finger from him, braced himself up with one hand as he stroked Dean's cock with the other, Sam's lips meeting Dean's in a soft quick kiss, then another and another. "What's wrong? Relax. It's okay. I got ya." Sam told him, each phrase punctuated by a soft kiss.

Wrapping one arm lightly around Sam, Dean stroked his back, touching him, holding him, trying to calm himself with the repetitive motion. Mostly, it was Sam's soft reassurances that got to him. More than anyone, he trusted his brother. Lifting his head, he kissed him back, drew his tongue in his mouth and then released him slowly. "Keep talking to me, please?" He felt so fucking vulnerable, even though he knew in a few minutes, everything would be fine.

Sam sighed softly, leaning his head down he pressed another soft kiss to Dean's lips. "It's okay. I won't do anything you don't want me to. Nothing you're not ready for. I promise." Sam slowly lowered himself down half on his brother, half onto the bed. Pulling his now free hand over to Dean's face, Sam cupped Dean's cheek. "I know how hard this is for you, but, it's okay, Dean." Sam told him softly, gazing lovingly down into brilliant green orbs. "It's just me." 

Sam's hand on Dean's dick, never stopped moving as he talked to his brother, kept up its steady rhythm. Sam's hips moving slowly against Dean, grinding against him, letting him know how aroused he was, what Dean did to him. He licked his lips. "Just want you so much... have for so long now..." 

The only thing that was hard for Dean was that none of this went with his view of himself. And yet his body didn't lie. He wanted Sam. And he wanted Sam inside him. He wanted this as badly as his brother did. "Do it." He lifted his hips higher. "Just do it, Sam..." he gripped his shoulder for a moment, "but keep talking..." It was stupid, silly... to need to hear Sam, but it kept him sane as he did probably the most insane thing he'd ever done in his life. "I want you to." 

Sam nodded, kissed Dean once more before pulling away to kneel between Dean's legs. He grabbed up the other tube, bringing the cap up to his mouth, holding it with his teeth as he unscrewed the cap, then spit it away. He gave his brother a crooked grin and small shrug. "Never claimed I was dainty," he muttered, before finally pulling his hand away from Dean's cock, to pour the contents of the tube into his hands. 

Reclaiming his hold on Dean's shaft, Sam lowered his other hand, fingertips ghosting over Dean's flesh. "I'll go slow, Dean. I promise. If you want to stop..." Sam glanced down, stifling a moan, before looking back up at his brother's face, "just tell me." he said as his fingertip pressed against the tight opening. 

Sam felt his finger slide in just slightly, and couldn't help the quick look down at what he was doing before looking back at his brother's face. "It's okay, Dean." Sam told him, as he pressed his finger slowly further inside. "It's just me. So, hot, Dean." Sam closed his eyes, moaned softly and shook his head, his finger pressing in completely, before he opened his eyes. "Can't wait to be in you, to feel you around me." Sam closed his eyes again, his head tilting back just slightly as he bit his bottom lip while he slowly worked a second finger into his brother.

"I can't either," Dean answered, closing his eyes. There was no pain, just Sam... working his cock, then working his fingers inside him. Dean started to move, tried to help his brother find that spot, and shuddered when he did. "Yeah... there." He wasn't gonna think anymore on who was on top and who wasn't, just how good this felt. How right. As sounds started to break from him, he knew it was time. "I need you, please." He reached out, wanting to pull his brother down on him.

Watching his brother, loving each and every sound that spilled from his lips, each look that crossed his face, Sam nodded when Dean told him he needed him. Oh God did he want Dean. He had to tell himself to go slow, to not just take. 

Unbeknown to his brother, Sam wasn't a shy boy when it came to the bedroom. He was aggressive and loved like he hunted, with everything he had. All out, non-stop until the end. 

Sam slowly pulled his fingers from inside his brother and leaned down over him, pressing a kiss to his lips. "I'll be gentle. I was...kidding...before." Sam told him softly. That actually was a lie, but it was one he thought might help Dean right now. 

Pulling back, Sam gripped his own dick in one hand and pumped himself in time with the hand on Dean's cock, before starting to line himself up with Dean's hole. With a glance up at his brother's face, lust and want for his brother slammed into Sam hard and he quickly released Dean's cock and his own, wrapped his hands up under Dean's knees and pulled him down on the bed, pushing his legs upward after he did, all in one quick move. 

Sam stopped, as he looked at his brother. "Sorry. Forgot myself." Sam muttered, before reaching out to run a hand slowly over Dean's stomach and chest, as he lined himself up once more and slowly pushed himself just inside. He forced himself to stop there and allow Dean to adjust. After a moment, Sam pushed inside further, then stopped again. 

He squeezed his eyes tightly closed as he grit his teeth. Letting Dean adjust again, before once more pushing in, this time balls deep. His breath came out in a rush as Sam leaned down over Dean, one hand braced against the mattress, the other going to Dean's cock. Hazel eyes opened to look down into green. "You okay? Lemme know when you're okay." Sam grunted out, forcing himself to hold still.

Eyes laser focused on Sam's face, Dean watched his expressions as he breached him. Sure it hurt... burned like a sonovabitch, but Dean could take a helluvalot of pain. Pain had been the last thing on his mind when he'd resisted this. But right now, watching Sam, watching the struggle... the raw need battling against his brother's iron will, it was beautiful. And to know that _he_ was the reason for the war raging inside Sam, it was exciting as hell. 

Dean bit his lip, moving slowly, testing how it felt to be stretched and filled by his brother. He nudged again, wincing slightly, then licking his lips. His heart caught at the look in Sam's eyes. They were both so desperate, and so cautious. He almost laughed. "You know how you said there's a lot I don't know about you?" 

Sam's expression relaxed slightly, even if his body didn't, as he looked down at his brother. "Yeah?"

"Well... I'd have thought you'd have figured it out by now. Fast and hard, that's how I like it." 

Sam turned his head, bit into his own bicep a moment, released, then looked back at his brother. "When you're ready..." Sam nodded, his words raw, choked. Dean had no idea how hard he was making it for him to hold still, for him to go slow. He hadn't missed that wince when Dean had moved just a small amount under him and as much as he wanted this, as much as he wanted Dean, he wasn't going to do anything to hurt him, cause him pain. 

Sam slowly moved his hips, slid himself back and then forward slow and easy, watching Dean's face. "Okay?"

Dean tensed only slightly, concentrating on how much he wanted to see Sam lose control. Knowing this was just the first step. He breathed in, and started to move with Sam. Slow, easy, the opposite of what he'd asked for... but it was good, they were finding a rhythm. "Right there," he gripped Sam's shoulders, digging his fingers in, "Sammy right there," he repeated, and then he didn't have to anymore. Sam was moving faster... hitting the right spot... filling him...and when he looked into Sam's face, the thought there was no more beautiful sight.

Locking his legs together around Sam's waist, he started to lift himself up, and drag Sam down. "Fuck me. Sam... hard," he insisted, digging his heels in his brothers back.

Sam had been biting his lip as he quickened his pace, trying to be careful, but as Dean's heels dug into his back, as Dean asked him again for hard.... for harder, Sam gasped, lips parting as he thrust his hips forward hard into his brother, eyes widening slightly as he looked at Dean's face. 

When Dean didn't yell at him, didn't tell him he needed to slow the hell down, that only an idiot would go that hard, Sam kept up the relentless rhythm, pounding into his brother. His hand on Dean's cock quickening as he moved. Sam shifted slightly, fingers of the hand against the mattress curling into the soft material as he grit his teeth, and slammed his hips harder. 

Lowering his head Sam crushed his lips against Dean's, his tongue thrusting inside, fucking his brother's mouth as he did his ass. A low growl rumbled in Sam's throat as he moved, tilted his head to the side more, swiveled his hips as he thrust and pulled back.

Dean started to protest when Sam pulled away, but he was back, and fucking him like he'd asked. "Yes," he writhed and used his legs to give Sam leverage, "Oh God yes, that's it," he rasped when their mouths parted. The sounds his brother made, and the almost predatory way he looked down on him, had Dean fucking harder, lifting his hips, taking more of Sam, urging him on. Then they were kissing again, and Dean had his arms around Sam, touching him, needing him in every way. 

"Unh... unh..." their panted breath's mingled, their bodies slammed together so hard Dean was sure there would be bruising, his lips felt abused and swollen, and still he didn't have enough... it would never be enough. Moving his mouth to Sam's throat, he sucked hard... knowing he'd leave his mark, wanting to.

"God, Dean, so fucking tight, so hot... SHIT!" Sam panted out, ending with an almost shout before he grit his teeth together. Eyes narrowing, he lowered his head and crushed his lips to Dean's again. _Holy hell, DeanfuckyeahohGod!_

He could feel his orgasm nearing, the familiar sensations, his balls drawing up. "Oh God," Sam shook his head, "gonna....Dean... come with me." Sam's words blended together and slurred. 

Throwing his head back, Sam squeezed his eyes closed, teeth clenched, as he let out an almost inhuman growl as he filled his brother's ass with his hot spunk. _Damndamndamnohfuckfuckfuck...God, yessssss._

Dean's entire body clenched in reaction to Sam's demand. All Dean could do was hang on, hold Sam tight as his brother's violent climax set him off as well. They were shouting and whispering each others' names. He was saying things, not sure whether he was even making sense as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him. 

"Fuck... Sam," his hand came to a rest at the small of Sam's back, and his legs dropped to the bed. Moving his face, he found Sam's mouth and kissed him, this time slowly, pulling apart and kissing again, before dropping his head down on the pillow. 

Sam slowly allowed himself to collapse carefully down onto his brother, his face tucked against Dean's neck as he tried to get his breaths and heartbeat back to something close to normal.

A few minutes passed. All Dean could hear was Sam's labored breaths while he held on, not letting him roll over. "So that was really envelope five?"

Sam smiled against Dean's neck lazily and shook his head, or at least tried to shake his head. After another moment, Sam pulled his head back and looked down at his brother. "Envelope five?" he grinned sleepily, "I didn't read past four." he told him, stifling a yawn as he laid his head back down.

"I'm just afraid envelope six will kill one of us," Dean chuckled, holding Sam close. He stroked his hair back, off his forehead. "Sam?"

Sam gave a lazy chuckle to his brother's comment, before sighing softly. "Hmm?" he asked, before picking his head up once again to look down at his brother. One hand moved to the side of Dean's face, thumb running gently over his cheekbone as Sam waited for Dean to tell him what was on his mind.

"If you want to do this again sometime, it's okay with me." Tilting his face, he brought his mouth in contact with Sam's palm.

Sam smiled slightly at his brother, hung his head, looking away for a moment before he raised his head again and looked back at him. "Sometime?" his smile widened, "How about after I sleep some?" Sam suggested, before he lowered his head, lips brushing Dean's in a soft quick kiss before his head went once again to the pillow. "I should probably move though." Sam's muttered against the pillow, hating the fact, but not wanting to fall asleep on his brother and be a like a dead weight.

Dean shifted a little so that only Sam's upper body was on him, but he held him in place. "Stay," he muttered, not ready to let him go yet. Not when he was just getting comfortable with the idea of what they were doing, what they needed. "Night Sammy," he touched his mouth to Sam's forehead, and closed his own eyes, exhausted, and pretty damned sure there wouldn't be any more sex for at least a few hours.


	6. Chapter 6

As they ate breakfast across the table from each other, their eyes occasionally met, and there was rueful laughter from both of them. They'd gone at it so many times, Dean lost count. All he knew was that every part of him ached or was rubbed raw, or had a bruise, or carpet burn, and Sam was in no better condition. It was like the floodgates had opened, and neither could get enough of the other. 

Dean opened the last envelope, tapping it so the paper within fell out onto the table. Reading it, he looked up and caught Sam's eyes. "You're not gonna believe what's in here."

Sam gave Dean his full attention, setting his glass down and raised his eyebrows. _Well?_

Seeing his brother’s encouraging look, he added. "It says 'rest' until the cars come to pick you up. I swear its like they know..." 

Sam chuckled, "Yeah, Dean, they have cameras all around here. They've been watching." Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes, as he pulled up from his seat at the small table and walked a little slower than normal to the counter, taking his plate and glass to the sink. "I doubt they mean rest from the marathon sex you had last night" 

Leaning back, Dean frowned. "You know... maybe we should check. I mean it's possible there are cameras." Straightening, he made a face. "Why, what's you're theory on this... this envelope number six?" 

Sam turned to face his brother, brow quirked. "Really? You're really that worried that someone...?" Sam didn't finish his sentence, only sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking away. "Fine, you wanna check for cameras, we'll check for cameras." Leaning one hand against the counter he shrugged, "I figure they mean...I dunno talk. Get to know each other intimately..." He paused and clarified, “Other than just sex." 

Looking away, Sam shook his head, "We...we don't have to do that part. I know you hate that stuff, it's okay. I know you pretty well anyway," he added with a small huff.

Dean had been looking around for signs of cameras when he swung his face toward Sam. "You mean this is the part where we exchange real names and phone numbers, if we want to." If things had worked out as planned, each of them would have been with some random dude. "Say I'll call you and..." he gave a half shrug.

Sam gave a small laugh, "Yeah. I think this would be that time too, sure," he shook his head. "Forget it, Dean. You don't know _how_ to do this part. It's okay."

Dean tapped the envelope on he table a couple times, then dropped it. "Yeah, okay. I don't think it applies to us, anyway. Like you said, you already know how awesome I am." Pushing away from the table, he brought his cup to the kitchen and poured, looking under his lashes at his brother who stood only inches away. If he had some energy, he'd...

Sam hung his head, getting quiet, as he stood there, hands braced on the counter. Thoughts of how nice it would be if his brother _did_ do this part, running through his head. Once they left here... where did that leave them? What did all this mean? Nothing? Anything? Were they going to go back to just being brothers? Not like he could ask Dean any of those things. He'd tell him he wasn't in the mood for a chick-flick moment, that Sam was ruining a perfectly good 24 hours and that he _knew_ Sam was really a girl. Yeah... totally couldn't talk to his brother... not about this. 

Pushing away from the counter, Sam sighed, "I think I'll go pack." he mumbled, as he started to leave.

"Sam?" Setting his cup down, Dean easily blocked his exit, standing in front of him and putting his hand on Sam's hips. "You know it'll take you three minutes to pack. What's going on in there," he nodded toward Sam's head. 

Sam shook his head as he looked at Dean, jaw clenched. "Nothin'. It's...I'm fine." he offered Dean a small smile and a nod, before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on Dean's lips. Sam leaned his forehead against Dean's, eyes still closed as he sighed. "Don't worry about it. Whatever happens from here happens," Sam whispered, more to himself than to Dean.

Drawing him closer, until there was no room between them, Dean spoke. "I'm not worrying. _You're_ worrying. What do you think is gonna happen? Hmm? You think either of us can walk away from this?"

Sam huffed and looked away, "I'm not worrying." He frowned, running a hand through his hair. Tried to figure out how he was going to handle Dean's usual behavior. Was he going to get jealous? Would it...this... linger? Or when it, when they finished, when they got it out of their system, would they, could they, go back to normal? It would get out of their system, right? They weren't gay, so, it had to... right? 

Sam took a step to the side, intending to go around Dean, "You don't want to talk about it and I don't know if I know how, so just forget it."

Still blocking he way, Dean gave Sam a 'what do you think you're doing?' look. "We've got three hours to kill. You talk, I'll listen. If it gets too much," he cocked his head to the side. "I'll tell ya."

Sam sighed and nodded, his gaze locking with his brother's for the first time since this had come up. Slowly one hand raised to Dean's face as he cupped his brother's cheek, thumb gently tracing over his cheek bone a moment before Sam let his hand fall away and turned, pacing away from him. Walking over to the window, Sam stood, crossing his arms over his chest. "So, where does this leave us, Dean? Where do we go from here? Do we just go back to things the way they were before? Brothers." Sam licked his lips, raised a hand to push the thin material of the curtain back, looking out, not that he was seeing much. "I mean, you go back to screwing every girl we meet, and I go back to..." Sam shrugged, "being me." he took a deep breath, let it out slowly, "Pretend this never happened?" 

Sam let his words hang there in the air for a long time, tested the way they felt to his heart, his mind. Finally, Sam shook his head, "I don't know if I can do it," he said softly, almost too quiet for Dean to hear. He turned his head then, as he released the curtain and looked over at his brother, "I dunno if I _want_ to.” He tore his gaze away from Dean and looked back out the window and kept speaking 

"But, you'll want to. I know that. It's who you are, and I'm okay with it. It's fine," Sam told him, his voice stronger now, more determined, before he pressed his lips together for a moment, nodding, "I'm fine." He took a step back from the window, turning toward the hall again. The room was just too small and his brother's eyes were boring holes into him, he could feel it.

Dean listened without interrupting or saying a word, scratching his neck a bit nervously but trying to sit still. He didn't like envelope six at all. Not at all. He also didn't like his brother telling him what he would want, especially when he was getting it all wrong. "Sam," Dean paused, willing his brother to turn around instead of bolting, like he looked like he was about to do. "Get over here."

He took a breath and met Sam's eyes. "How the fuck you think we ... I... can pretend this never happened? It happened, and I don't regret it. Not even a little, not now. I like sex. We had great sex... unconventional, but great." Right, 'unconventional' was an understatement. "I don't plan on stopping, not unless you want to. To be honest, I don't know if we can. Stop," he shook his head. He hadn't worked it out of his system, that much he knew for sure. "There. How'd I do?" He flashed his brother a smile. 

Sam stared at his brother, mouth hanging open. _Unconventional? Sex?_ Sam slowly frowned at him, eyes narrowing, "Great!...if I was a two dollar whore," he spat at him with a huff, before turning and storming from the room. Reaching the bedroom, Sam slammed the door closed behind him. He leaned back against the door, hands going to his head, the heels of his palms pressed against tightly closed eyes. 

Great. Just great. Of course, Dean would think of it as just 'sex'. Oh no, wait, just 'unconventional sex'. Sam released a small huff. And of course Dean would go back to the women. Maybe Sam hadn't been the shy lover Dean had expected, but in some ways, when it came to this, Sam was still Sam. The Sam that he thought his brother knew. How could he think that it was 'just sex'? It had been so much more than that for Sam. Sure, if it had been some random guy, then fine. But, it wasn't. It was Dean. 

He'd loved Dean, as a brother, for years now, and well, this...what they had done, had just made him feel even closer to him. Dammit to hell. How could Sam have thought Dean would be any different, even for a minute? He huffed again and slowly lowered his hands, shaking his head. Eyes still closed. 

Slowly, Sam opened his eyes and stared at the far wall. After what they had done, after what Dean had _let_ him do... he had thought... had believed... Sam swore softly and pulled away from the wall. This was too damn chick-flicky even for him. This was how Dean wanted it, fine, he could handle it. It was just sex. Okay. No problem. No big deal. Would have been nice for his _brother_ to tell him ahead of time, but okay, fine. 

He'd just pretend like it never happened. He could do that. Just like he had pretended not to have feelings like this for Dean in the first place. Looking around the room, Sam shook his head at himself, yeah, look where his last bout of 'pretending' got him. MotherFu-.... walking over to the bed, Sam flopped down on it, arm thrown over his eyes. This sucked major ass!  
*

What the hell? He'd tried. Dean thought he said the right stuff, and there went Sammy, storming off and saying the weirdest shit. Anger simmered low in Dean's belly, so he stayed inside, washing his dish, getting more coffee, looking out the window... anything to calm down. Eventually, when his brother never came back out, Dean headed inside.

Pushing the door open, he saw Sam lying on the bed looking depressed as hell. He didn't say anything and started to pack, for both of them, only glancing at Sam once in a while. The longer the silence stretched, the more frustrated he got. "Sammy, what he hell?" He glared at his brother from across the room. "You know, it would be a helluva lot easier if you'd just spit it our instead of making me guess. Yesterday should have taught you that."

Sam licked his lips and frowned as he tried to think of how to put it. He kept his arm thrown over his eyes, so he didn't have to look at Dean. "I just thought this," he sighed, "that I, meant something to you, that's all." He rolled over on his side away from Dean. "Should have known it's not how you are. Sex is just sex with you. I get that. It's fine. Just gimme a while to get used to the fact that you don't feel anything about _me_ , you just want the sex."

THAT was his problem? Dean [i]really[/i] hated envelope six. Striding over to the narrow bed, he got on it, and pulled Sam's unwilling body close. Spooning behind him, he couldn't miss the fact that Sam was stiff and tense. God... he really _was_ a girl.

He moved his mouth over Sam's ear. "I didn't say just sex. I said _great_ sex." He was teasing and half expecting to be knocked away, so he gripped Sam tight, just in case. "Sam? How could it be just sex? You know it isn't. I know it isn't. Do we really have to talk about something we both know?" He stroked Sam's arm, letting his breath fan out over his cheeks and the side of his throat. 

Sam let out the breath he'd been holding, his jaw tense. "So, what does this 'Great Sex' mean, Dean? Hmm? What that we know how to fuck like rabbits? Here's a big shocker for ya, but I already kinda had that figured out long before we came here." Sam told him, as he turned his head slightly toward Dean, but then he turned away again and shook his head. "No. We don't have to talk about it. It's fine. I get it. I do. We go back to you bangin' every girl you see and when you get an itch I'm to be there to scratch it for you." Sam nodded, "Got it." he told Dean, closing his eyes. "I think I'll take a nap before the cars get here. I suddenly feel very..." he shrugged, "tired." Sam sighed softly, "It would have been easier if you had been some random guy."

"It's gonna be alright. You'll see." Dean kissed him lightly on the mouth and pulled away. He wasn't gonna make any promises. He wasn't gonna get drawn into a long conversation about this, he wasn’t letting Sam twist and tangle him up, make him trip over everything he said. "You'll see."

* * *

[Three weeks later]

They'd gone back to the city in one car. As far as he was concerned, Dean thought Sam did his best to make things a bit weird between them at first, but Dean didn't let him. Outside whatever motel they happened to be at, Dean acted like his regular self. Flirting, chatting up the girls, pushing Sam to find one. But he always came _home_ with Sam. Behind closed doors, they did have great sex... nothing wrong with that. But he tried to show Sam it was more than that. 

Maybe his brother was getting the message now. Maybe not. He sometimes couldn’t fucking tell what was going through Sam’s too complicated mind.

Dean sat at the table, lifting his beer bottle to his mouth as he watched Sam at the bar. He was a little more than amused by how quickly Sam managed to put off a pretty dark haired girl who was hitting on him. When he got back to the table with more beers and sat down, Dean kicked him lightly. "You could have been nicer to her. She wants you."

Sam looked at his brother, then glanced over his shoulder at the girl still standing where he left her at the bar and shrugged. "Yeah, well... we all want somethin' don't we?" he grumbled, before taking a drink of his beer.

"Loosen up, we're here for some fun." Earlier, they'd put a ghost to rest, and Dean could really use some unwinding time. "You didn't bring back anything to eat. She got you nervous, huh?"

Sam frowned at his brother as he lowered the beer bottle. "Shut up, jerk," he huffed softly, glancing over his shoulder once more, before looking back and shaking his head. With a glance at Dean, Sam added, "You're an ass."

"But you still love me," Dean gave an irritating grin, and looked around. 

Sam huffed at his brother before shaking his head and taking another drink. His eyes following the movement of his brother's as he drank. What the...? Oh. Of course. Sam pulled the bottle away, setting it down on the table and crossed his arms over his chest. Maybe he ought to go home with the bar chick, whatever her name was. It would serve Dean right. He shot his brother a look under his lashes, but remained quiet.

Flagging down a passing waitress, Dean ordered some sliders, happily explaining that his brother had gone all the way to the bar and been so distracted by the chick up there, he'd forgotten to get them. She smiled a Sam, "it's alright... I got it." When she left, Dean looked back and saw Sam wasn't amused. He sighed. "Now what?"

"I didn't get distracted. I got annoyed. There's a difference. Like right now... you're not distracting me, you're annoying me." Sam snapped. "Look Dean, I know you always push me to... meet," Sam said the word carefully, "women, but I just don't want to. Didn't before and I definitely don't now." He shrugged, looking away, "I already met someone," he mutteredas he grabbed the beer bottle and brought it to his lips, taking a long pull, a small smirk on his lips as he did.

"Yeah? Who?" Dean demanded, then noticed the smirk... the way Sam was looking at him. "Oh. You've got great taste, I'll give you that," he lifted his bottle and took a drink. "So do I," this time it was Dean who was smirking. 

Pulling the bottle away from his lips, Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother, "Yeah?"

"Tall, dark, knows how to handle a gun, a bit of a bitch... but keeps things interesting." Cocking his head to one side and lifting his shoulder, he added, "well, yeah." Just like it was a given that Sam should know that.

Sam snickered softly, shaking his head as he kept his gaze not quite on Dean. "Yeah, I hear ya. Mine can be a bit of a douche bag too.

Dean made a face. "At least yours comes in two settings, happy and happier. Mine's got like 28 moods, and each time I figure one out, there's another one." Okay, probably a bit of an exaggeration, but in comparison... hell yeah. "Like right now. I cant tell if the mood is annoyed/irritated/take me to bed, or amused/pretending to be irritated/take me to bed, or annoyed/can't talk to you now/take me to bed. You wanna clue me in?"

Sam raised an eyebrow, turning his head slightly to look at his brother fully, "Maybe it's stop fuckin' with me/ slightly amused/ take me to bed?" Sam suggested, before pressing his lips together, sitting forward, "Or maybe it's more like, keep it up and he won't let you take him to bed/ teasing/ take him back to the room and find out? Ooor..." Sam started to chuckle, and was cut off as the waitress walked up with their order, placing it on the table.

"See how confusing mine can be?" Dean was almost triumphant as he reached for a potato skin. "I'll eat fast, before we go through eight more mood combinations in three minutes. Sometimes they make me insane." Popping the whole thing in his mouth, he licked the sour cream off his thumb.

Sam watched Dean eat the potato skin, making a face. "Dude, that's just...wrong. Slow down. Chew your food." Sam huffed shaking his head. "How can you stuff all that in your...." Sam stopped, blushed slightly and looked away, "Oh."

"Practice," Dean drawled.

"Some things, I didn't need to know, Dean." Sam muttered, reaching for his beer as he shook his head. "So, uh, this someone you met..." Sam licked his lips, "Is it... uh, serious?" he asked, staring off at the pool game going on across the bar.

"Course its..." he lowered his voice, "course it's serious." What the hell, was Sam really wondering that? "You know, college kids aren't as smart as they're cracked up to be." He took another potato skin, pushing the plate toward Sam, before eating it.

Sam turned his head took look back at his brother so fast it was a wonder he didn't pop something. _Not as smart as..._ Sam huffed softly.

As he chewed, Dean thought about it some more. How could it not be serious? There were times though that he... Looking at Sam, he wondered if he could get it out there, maybe it was easier to do it this way. He took a deep breath. "But sometimes..." the wary look that entered Sam's eyes made Dean's gut wrench. "You see, the thing that this ... this person always wanted most was a 'normal life.' Not finding that with me, it just... it's not possible." Dean Dry scrubbed his face. "Little white house with a picket fence, two kids and a dog. I could be taking all that away... or even just this person’s dreams of it."  
Sam's gaze dropped from his brother's face to the plate of potato skins as one hand reached up, a single digit toying with one of the skins as he thought about what Dean said, about how best to answer that without making Dean clam up again. He licked his lips and sighed softly, "Well, see thing is," Sam glanced up at Dean then back down at the potato skin he was steadily tear apart now that another digit had joined the first at poking at the cut and prepared spud.  
"I mean, maybe this person isn't who they use to be. Maybe something happened... something big..." Sam glanced up at Dean, then back down and shrugged, "like a death, or several deaths... and that person came to realize that 'normal' for him, just might not be 'normal' for everyone else... but as long as it makes him happy, then that's what matters."

It made sense, what Sam said. But it also made Dean realize how he'd failed to protect his brother. Just because he was alive didn't mean he was okay. Was it okay that he'd given up on normal? He willed Sam to look at him, needed to know if he was really fine.

Sam sighed and turned in his chair again, grabbing up a napkin as he did to wipe his hands on. "As for college kids not being so smart, I assume that means that this person went to college." Sam smirked slightly, looking off, "they were probably a straight A student too, huh? Free ride to a big school?" he glanced at Dean and his smile fell, "Not that that matters... Uh, I was gonna say, maybe if they don't know you the way _I_ know you, they might not understand that all the flirting you do stems from your insecurities." Sam turned his head, hiding the wide grin that had formed on his face with that last part as he waited for Dean to blow up. Sometimes Dean was just too easy.

All his serious thoughts flew out the window. "Insecurities? You've got to be fucking kidding me. What do I have to be insecure about?" He shoved Sam on the shoulder, growling, "Ass." Lifting the bottle to his lips, he continued to stare at Sam, wondering if he really believed in that psycho babble. 

Sam nodded, pretending to be serious, biting the inside of his cheek to not grin. "Oh right. Not insecure. You're just a horn dog. I forgot." he shrugged, "Well, then that poor person you hooked up with really IS in a pickle aren't they?" Sam looked at his brother and quirked a brow, "You want me to talk to them? Let them know that you're...uh, just promiscuous?" he asked with a slight smirk pulling at his lips as he reached for a potato skin.

"That _poor_ person already knows that," he said a bit tightly, wondering how he had ended up as the subject of this conversation and getting the feeling it was just gonna blow up. He dry scrubbed his face, "this person knows where I've been... only in [I]one[/I] bed since we... hooked up, dammit. Why don't you ask them what the hell more they want from me?"

Sam shrugged, taking a bite of potato skin. He watched his brother as he chewed, swallowed and took a drink of beer. "Why don't _you_ ask them. They're _your_ bed buddy, not mine."

He didn't know why, but the way Sam casually called them _bed buddies_ bugged the hell out of him. If he'd thought about it, he probably wouldn't be doing this in public, but Dean leaned in, grabbed Sam's shirt and pulled him close, so he was in his face. "What the hell do you want from me, Sammy? I go back with you every goddamned night. We go at it all night long, I let you fuck me... what else you want?"

Sam looked at his brother, slightly slanted hazel eyes searching his face for a long moment as he said nothing, only looked at him. "Let me fuck you?" Sam asked him, "How very...kind of you, Dean." Sam told him, before dropping his gaze. "Funny how differently we see the same thing, huh?" Sam asked him quietly, shaking his head. 

Slowly, Sam looked up at his brother. Fine, he wanted it spelled out for him in fluffy little letters, he could do that. Dean called him a girl more often than not anyway, so why not go for broke here? "I don't see it as that. You see, when I'm with the person _I_ met, I don't think of it as a fuck. See, he's got this thing about always being in control and it's really hard for him not to be... so when he lets his guard down round me," Sam shrugged, "I dunno, it's... special. Yeah, I know, I'm a girl. I know," he huffed, "Don't remind me. But, Maybe the person you're with, Dean... maybe he just needs to know that you think it's special too. You know, more than a _fuck_!" Sam pulled back from his brother, "Hell, he could probably get _that_ from Alice." Sam muttered with a backward nod toward the bar and the girl he had abruptly left standing there.

"Only if its a three way," Dean practically snarled. It was one thing to flirt and joke, but if Sam was really considering it... "It's not the same thing, dammit. Twenty one nights in a row, and you don't get that it's special? Really?"

"To hear you talk?" Sam raised an eyebrow, "Unless we pretend it's about someone else, THEN you say it's special, but to me? No. So," Sam shrugged again, "guess I'm slow on the uptake."

He was gonna argue. Gonna point out he'd just said it to Sam, what the hell. But it was one of those arguments you couldn't win... just like with a girl. Reaching into his pocket, he got his wallet out and dropped a couple of bills on the table. "Give me a half hour, and meet me in the room." He got up, then as an afterthought pointed his finger into Sam's face. "Alone."

Sam frowned down at the finger in his face, before looking back up at his brother as he withdrew it and walked out the door. Giving a huff, Sam glanced over toward Alice and shook his head. Did his brother _really_ think he was going to bring Alice in there to... Sam shook his head, not even finishing the thought. Yeah, Dean probably thought it because it was something he would likely do. Sam hung his head and sighed. Whatever. That hadn't gone quite the way he had planned. Instead of getting feelings out of Dean, he'd gotten the one feeling Dean never bothered to hide. Anger. Oh, yeah and irritation. 

As the waitress came over to the table Sam offered her a friendly half smile and asked for the check, then added the small amount to what Dean had tossed down and a tip, before pulling from his seat and walking toward the door.  
He wasn't sure what he was going to do to kill the remaining, twenty eight minutes, not that he was keeping track, but he knew he wasn't going to sit in there any longer without Dean. He'd go for a walk, or... something. Just not sit around where the back of his head was growing warm from the laser stares from Alice. 

* * *

Thirty minutes after Dean had left the bar, Sam was walking up to the door of their room. Glancing around nervously, Sam reached into his back pocket for the room key, opening the door quietly. Slipping the key back into his pocket, Sam cracked the door open slightly noting the very low lighting inside the room, though he was still mostly outside.  
"Dean?" Sam called out his brother's name as he pushed the door open wider and stepped inside, making sure to step over the salt line. Sam's eyes widened as he looked around the room at the candles that were lit about the place. Whoa, shit!

He turned abruptly back around, hand on the door knob, intending to walk back out as quickly as possible. "Uh, sorry, man!" Sam called out, "I, uh, didn't see anything. Thought you were done, that it was time." Sam grimaced, huffed and shook his head. Whatever.

Dean rinsed the toothpaste off his teeth and spit out the water. Wiping his mouth, he walked out of the bathroom just in time to see Sam making a quick exit. "Hey! Sam." If Sam faulted him even for this, he really was gonna blow up. It was the best he could do in thirty minutes, and if it wasn't good enough...

Reaching the door, he opened it wide. "Well? You coming in?" 

Sam looked at his brother and his breath caught in his throat. He glanced past Dean, before hazel met green once more, "Me?" Sam stepped past Dean, eyes scanning the room again, before he looked back at Dean. Dean looked... Well, he didn't look the way he normally did. If Sam had to hazard a guess, he'd say Dean looked like he was heading out on a very important date... not that Dean ever dressed differently for dates. Okay, Dean looked the way Sam would on a very important date. And that only confused him even more. 

"What, um," Sam fidgeted before his eyes trailed over his brother's form, head to toe and back. Damn, he looked good. What had Sam interrupted? Obviously Dean had plans, but Sam knew, he _knew_ he was on time. So, what was this about? Sam shook his head, "I didn't..." he licked his lips, sighed and tried again, "What's going on?"

The way Sam was looking at him, Dean wanted to forget all about his plans and just skip to the end. He was so fucking tempted, he had to count to ten to stop himself. Maybe he could just demand a kiss, like a down payment on the end. He didn't even bother dragging his gaze away from Sam's mouth, it was Sam's fault, with all the tongue teasing.

"I'm taking you out to dinner." Pulling Sam inside, he closed the door and slanted his mouth over Sam's, flicking his tongue over the seam of Sam's lips before delving gently inside. He had to take it easy or he'd ruin everything. Breaking the kiss before it got too intense, he stepped back. "Not actually out to dinner, more like _in_." Nodding toward the small table he'd moved, he drew Sam's attention to the foil sealed plates and drinks. Those fancy restaurants even did fancy take out.

Sam licked the taste of Dean from his lips as he turned his head and looked down at the table, eyes widening, before he looked back at his brother a slightly confused look on his face, though he pressed his lips together to remain silent on the matter. 

His eyes wandered over his brother's form again, before he looked him in the eye, "Should I, uh, go change?" Sam asked him, glancing between Dean and the rest of the room. Okay, he had gone from slightly angry to intrigued, to down right pissed off when he had seen the room, figuring Dean had some girl in here, to more confused than he had been in weeks since all this started.

"No, you're fine. You alright?" He raised a brow. Oh God, was he really going to have to break it down for college boy? "You wanted special," he gave a self conscious shrug, "It's not...it’s the best I could do this fast. And you wanted _open_... you got it. Whatever you want to know, Sam. Just... you know, be gentle. Not all at once," he gave a rueful grin. Yeah, either he was out of his mind, or he was out of his mind crazy in love.

Sam looked at his brother as though he had just grown a second head. Licking his lips Sam looked around the room again before meeting Dean's gaze, "Really? Dude, you didn't have to do..." Sam shrugged a shoulder and looked around, a smile pulling at his lips, as he shook his head. "I dunno what to say." Sam told him softly, as he stepped up to Dean, leaned in and gently pressed his lips to Dean's, tongue darting out to trace along Dean's full bottom lip. Sam moaned softly, as his hands ran up Dean's arms, pulling them closer together, as his tongue delved into Dean's mouth.

Instinctively closing his arms around Sam, Dean stroked Sam's tongue with his, tangling them together as he walked his brother backwards toward the table. "Sam, if we don't stop now... you know cold steak doesn't taste any good."

Sam tore his lips away from Dean's a soft chuckle escaping him. "Steak?" he quirked a brow, "What is it, my birthday? Am I dying and you didn't tell me?" Sam joked with him as he moved, taking a step backward. Sam started to sit down at the table, as he reached a hand out, pulling Dean over with him.

"NO." Catching the hand Sam gave him, Dean steered Sam to the other, less rickety chair. Waggling his eyebrows but not saying more, he sat across from his brother and started to open up his meal. "And you'd better not die before the night is out," he gave Sam a heated look. "I've got plans for you."

Sam eyed Dean, for a moment, a smile slowly spreading wider across his face, until he was all dimples and laughing hazel eyes as he nodded, looking away, down at the meal before him. "Okay then." he agreed as he nodded.

Sam was as nervous as he had been on his first date he was sure. Why the hell were his palms sweating and why did he seem to have so much nervous energy all of the sudden? His leg was jumping under the table a mile a minute as he drummed one thumb against the table top, looking anywhere but at Dean.

"So." Sam said, a little louder than was necessary, "Uh... where you get all the candles? Mug a witch?" Sam asked, opting for humor and failing miserably. Okay, how was it Dean always managed to do this? Sam started drumming both thumbs against the table top nervously.

"If I told you, it would take away the mystery." He'd been watching Sam closely, the way he fidgeted, the way he was having trouble speaking. It made Dean all sorts of happy to know he had that affect on him. He tried to cover his smugness and reached over to open Sam's plate. "If I'd known you'd be this jumpy, I'd have had a couple shots ready for you." Sitting back, he pushed a bottle toward his brother and lifted his.

Sam looked into Dean's face quickly, before glancing down at his plate. "I'm not jumpy,” he said, not sounding very sure, even to his own ears.

He reached for the bottle Dean slid toward him and quickly took a long drink before setting it back down on the table, and looking at Dean. "Really... what made you decide to do this? I mean, surely it wasn't just because of the talk we, uh, _didn't_ have at the bar. So, what's this about?" Sam glanced around the room again, "I mean, I like it, don't get me wrong, but this is about as much 'you' as...well, as Enya playing softly on the radio." Sam quirked a brow at him, then sighed, rolling his eyes. "Enya is a singer, Dean, it's not slang for sex." he muttered shaking his head.

"What's wrong with good, solid names like Amanda or Christine," Dean groused, taking a bite of his steak. He felt Sam's gaze on him, and wanted to answer him by asking wasn't it obvious? But he'd promised. He was gonna go through with this. "Yeah its about that talk. You said I don't show you... so, I'm showing you." There was that look of puzzlement again on Sam's face, dammit. "I care," he said, forcing the words out.

Sam's eyes widened slightly before he looked down at his plate. He licked his lips, hands stilling on the table top. "You...care...?" Sam asked him, saying each word slowly before looking back up at Dean. "No one said you didn't care, Dean. Hell, you've cared about me since you ran with me out of that fire. I think the question was a little... bigger than that. Don't you?"

It was Dean's turn to squirm. He shrugged, "I dunno, it's your question. Was it?" Yeah, he was buying time, and stuffing his mouth, and wondering why little brother wasn't doing the same. When his eyes met Sam's, he prepared himself for more difficult questions.

Sam looked back down at his plate and shrugged, as he picked up his knife and fork, started to eat. He didn't say anything for a long moment as he ate some of the steak and potato, took a long drink. He looked back at Dean finally, "I suppose it was my question. But, you still don't want to _say_ it." Sam eyes darted around the room, before going back to his brother, a small smile almost forced smile on his lips, "It's okay. I can do the math. You don't have to _say_ it."

"Cut it out, Sam." Dean's mouth flattened into a straight line. He struggled against years of practice, compartmentalizing his feelings, and raising barriers to make sure no one got a glimpse at them. He cleared his throat, swallowed. "I care about you not only like a brother, but..." Running his hand over his face, he spoke from behind it. "I love you."

Sam bit the inside of his cheek so he wouldn't smile. Fought to keep a straight face. Of course, if Dean knew how much that meant to him maybe he wouldn't punch him for smiling.... no, he still would. So, he fought to keep his face neutral as he leaned forward in his chair, reaching out a hand to grab one of Dean's. 

Holding tightly onto Dean's hand, Sam looked into his face as he made himself look innocent and confused, "I'm sorry? What was that?"

"Sam..." Dean let out a frustrated breath, though he closed his own hand around Sam's. A muscle throbbed in his jaw, but staring into his brother's eyes, knowing everything he ever wanted, everything he ever needed was right there, within reach, it gave him courage. "I said I... I love you." It was a quiet, hoarse whisper, but clear as a bell in the quiet of the small motel room.

Sam smiled softly at him then, nodding slightly. "Love you too, bro." Sam told him softly. He gazed into Dean's eyes a few more moments before looking away, at the rest of the room, the candles that were still all burning brightly, casting shadows and soft light about the room. "So, all this was to tell me that?" Sam asked as he looked back, quirking a brow. He grinned wider, "Cause, if this was all to get in my pants, I'm kind of a sure thing where you're concerned."

Dean had to wonder if it was a trick question. You couldn't tell with Sam, these days. "Sure thing, huh? Yeah, that part I had figured. About the rest... you keep thinking it has to be one or the other when I say anything. I mean, I say "sex," you get mad... or... something." That's how it had been at the bar. "When I say sex, I mean [I]both[/I]... where you're concerned," he said, serious now, hoping Sam would see the truth.

Sam shrugged and looked down at his plate, started eating again, silently. Not looking at Dean as he did. Finally after a few minutes of feeling Dean watching him, Sam looked up. "Maybe I don't look at it that way..." he gestured toward Dean with the hand he held his fork with, "with you." he said before quickly looking back down at his food.

"Well how about when I say it, you take it like I mean it, and if you say sex, I get pissed off," Dean suggested, ever so helpfully. Tearing a piece of his bread roll, he dipped it in the sauce on his place, and stuffed it into his mouth. The silence scared him. It meant the gears in Sam's head were turning and who knew what else he'd pop off with next. "Eat. I have plans for you."

Sam glanced up at his brother and quirked a brow. After a moment, he looked back down at his food and continued eating, the silence stretching between them. "So, you can call it what you want, and I am suppose to take it like you mean it... but if I say the same thing, then you have a right to get pissed?" Sam asked him, as he cut off a piece of steak, popping it into his mouth, before he looked up at Dean and raised an eyebrow. "How is that fair?"

"The hell Sam? You just said you look at it differently, mean it differently... so I'm going to take it the way you mean. That's fair, I'm asking you to do the same, take it like I mean it." He had to wonder if Sam was misunderstanding him on purpose, or did he want something else or what. He cleared his throat. "Maybe if you just tell me what you want."

Sam nodded, "I see." he shrugged and took a bite of potato before looking at Dean again, "And what if I want to hear you _say_ what you mean?" Sam asked him, voice deeper, softer, eyes darkening. He glanced toward the bed and back to his brother, "Like if I said that I wanted to fuck you so hard right now... how would you take that...exactly?"

Dean tried to understand the secret messages in his brother's eyes. Sometimes he was an open book, but when it came to this relationship stuff, he was as unreadable as a girl. His instincts told him this was a make it or blow it moment. That he had to get it right. He put his fork down and leaned forward. "I'd say you'll have to wait your turn tonight, Sammy, because I'm going to make love to you first."

Sam's fork stilled half way to his mouth as he looked at Dean for a long moment, before clearing his throat and looking down, quickly taking a bite to hide the grin that was pulling at his lips as he nodded. "Fair enough." he mumbled around the bite he took, head still bowed, a deep blush staining his cheeks.

"Yeah? No, ahhh... complaints?" He gave his blushing brother a piercing look.

Sam glanced up at him and raised a brow, "What, uh, what do you mean...complaints?"

"Did I say it right? For one..."

Sam smiled and nodded, reaching for the napkin and wiping his hands, before he reached for the bottle sitting before him. Hazel eyes caught green for a brief moment before he looked away, "Yeah, you said it right." Sam told him, as he brought the bottle to his lips.

"And you're alright with me..." he waved his own bottle around, to fill in the blank. "No complaints 'bout that."

Sam swallowed and sat his bottle back on the table as he eyed his brother, "Alright with you, WHAT, exactly, Dean?"

Dean gritted his teeth. "If I say I'm gonna _fuck you_ , you get mad, I say _make love_ and you don't get it. Do I need to draw you a picture?" He tried to get a hold of his temper, tried to stay calm, tried to go back to being amused by Sam's responses. It was just that walking a line was hard for him, and that's what this felt like. He was used to knowing exactly what Sam was thinking, and when he could, it frustrated the hell out of him.

Sam licked his lips as he looked at his brother, expression unreadable as he thought about his words. He'd had a feeling he knew what Dean was saying, but thinking and knowing were two different things. Especially where his brother and sex were concerned. 

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "So..." he said slowly, arching a brow, "you're saying you want to do to me what I've done to you. That you want to bury yourself deep inside me, be the one in control, make love _to_ me, really to me..." Sam glanced away, turned in his chair, "You want to be the one to deflower my virgin ass," he glanced back at his brother, "That about sum it up?"

"Deflo..." Dean blinked. "If you want to be poetic about it, yeah, that covers it." He frowned, "what do you mean _really to you_? Who the fuck else have I been with? Jesus Sam, when did you get to be so damned confusing." 

Sam huffed at his brother and rolled his eyes shaking his head, "That wasn't what I meant, but forget it. Close enough." he shook his head, turning back to face the table. "Why would I have a problem with that?" he asked Dean, as he picked his fork back up, started playing with the remains of his potato.

Dean shrugged. "Mind if I start on dessert?" That's what he'd been looking forward to. That and a side of Sam... once this messy conversation thing was the hell over with, which he hoped was soon.

Sam frowned slightly as he hook his head, sat back in his chair, head still bowed, before slowly looking up at his brother, watching him silently for a few moments. "Well?"

Caught with pie and ice cream in his mouth, Dean gave Sam a wide-eyed look. Chewing, he swallowed. "Well, what? I was just making sure, that's all." He took another mouthful, wiping the ice cream from the corner of his mouth and licking it off his thumb.

Sam shrugged and reached for his drink. "Yeah, maybe you should have had a couple shots waiting for me." Sam muttered as he downed the last of the beer.

That look, he got. Sam was nervous, and not just a little. Pushing up from the table and taking his dessert plate with him, dean walked around to Sam's side. Putting the plate down, he turned Sam's chair and wordlessly straddled his thighs, biting his lower lip as he scooted up and ground his ass against his brother's cock. "Open your mouth Sam," he said, bringing a spoonful of pie and ice cream to his lips, staring at that mouth he was already aching to kiss.

Sam gasped softly, stifled a moan as Dean ground his firm ass against his crotch. Sam' hands automatically rose to cup Dean's lower back. Hands running slowly up and down in a small area of his lower back to his ass, eyes closing slowly, only to open quickly once again as Dean spoke. He glanced down at the spoon, before looking back at his brother's face, slowly opening his mouth as Dean had instructed him to do, his gaze locked with Dean's.

Slipping the spoon inside Sam's mouth, Dean's gut clenched at the sight of his brother's tongue flicking out to catch the last drop of ice cream on the spoon. "You drive me crazy, Sammy. Everything you do. The way you move. The way you part your freakin' hot lips when you're nervous. Way your fingers curl around a bottle... or move over a keyboard. If you don't know that, I'm telling you now," he whispered. Spooning some ice cream, he took half into his mouth and offered the rest to Sam.

Sam watched his brother, his words warming his heart as his dick hardened in his jeans under his brothers ass even more. Lids lowered over hazel orbs as Sam took the offered ice cream from the spoon, then looking up at his brother, eyes till heavy lidded. He swallowed, pulled Dean closer, "You have no idea what you do to me, Dean. What you have done to me since..." he shook his head, "I can't even remember when I first noticed." Sam paused, licked his lips as his eyes searched his brother's face, "Your lips, tempting me to suck, lick and nip at them, the way you move..." he let a small chuckle out, shaking his head, "Do you do the shit you do on purpose? Cause it works. The way you look at me. Like I'm the most important person on the planet sometimes..." Sam sighed, tightened his grip on his brother, hands at his hips now. "If you didn't know that about me, then you're not paying close enough attention." He ran his hands up Dean's back "I love you, bro."

Feeling his brother get hard for him, watching as his eyes glaze over, and listening to his low whispers, Dean felt his heart swell. "I know, you can't help it cause I'm just that lovable," he tried to joke, but then got serious. "No, I do know Sam. You're the one with the doubts. Not me. It's what I'm trying to tell you here. Don't you get that? I love you, couldn't love you more... not in any way." He moved harder, pressing his own cock up against Sam's belly. Holy shit... he had to slow down, to give Sam what Sam needed in words, he had to.... 

Sam gasped softly, his breath catching in his throat before he leaned in, his eyes slowly closing as he pressed his ice cream cooled lips to Dean's, his tongue darting out to run across the seam of Dean's lips. Sam's arms wrapped around his brother as his hips thrust upward against Dean a soft moan sounding deep in his throat.

His tongue swept into Dean's mouth, tangling with his brother's tongue as his hands ran up and across his back. Sam tilted his head the opposite way, deepening the kiss, plunging his tongue deep into his brother's mouth mapping it out, moaning as he arched his back over the chair, thrust his hips upward again, harder against Dean.

Very quickly, Dean's breaths became labored. Releasing Sam's hips, he pushed his hands under his shirt, running his palms over smooth, warm skin stretched taut over unbelievably chiseled muscles. With every pass of his hands, he became just a little more aggressive, just a little more possessive. Sam had made him think of things in terms he hardly ever did, and now... they were floating through his mind. How much he liked... no needed Sam. Needed him in every way, and needed to know just as much as his brother that this was real, that it was for keeps, even if every one else in the world thought it was wrong.   
Sam tore his lips from Dean, his breathing labored as he looked at him with passion glazed eyes. "Love you, need you." he breathed out in a pant of air, before his lips claimed Dean's again as he wrapped his arms tightly around his older brother and stood to his feet, taking the three steps, closing the distance between them and the bed before tumbling onto it with his brother. Sam ground his denim clad cock against Dean's as his hands moved to tug at the hem of Dean's tee lifting it upward, palms gliding over toned muscled skin.

The display of strength by his brother had Dean moaning and lifting his hips even as Sam ground his hips down into him. Then Sam's calloused hands were brushing over his chest, and all he wanted was more. Mouths melded together, Dean pushed Sam up, so they were sitting facing each other. Feeling Sam's tugs on his clothing, he raised his arms and let Sam peel his shirt off, then returned the favor.

Staring at the expanse of Sam's chest, his breath caught. For once in his life, everything he wanted... everything he needed, was right here in front of him. His. His to take. His to hold. His to care for... to be cared by. Lowering his mouth, he kissed a wet path up the center of Sam's chest, then skimmed over to his flat male nipple, teasing it... scraping his teeth gently over it and kissing it better. He could hear Sam's heart thundering in his chest and wondered if his own was as loud. " Oh God, Sam... don't ever stop saying that," he said hoarsely, one hand reaching for Sam's zipper, then palming him through his jeans. 

Dean's hot mouth on his skin made Sam's heart pound faster, breaths panting out as he reached for his brother, pulled him closer, ran a hand through the soft short dark blond stands of Dean's hair as he closed his eyes, clenched his teeth. Sam's eyes opened as Dean drew away, he nodded at Dean's words, whimpered at his touch. He raised up onto his knees on the bed, bucked his hips forward into Dean's palm as his own hands hurriedly tore at the button and zipper of his brother's jeans.

Sam's eyes stayed on Dean's face as digits worked opening his jeans, once they were unfastened, Sam released the denim, reaching up to cup Dean's head, one hand on each side, as he leaned in kissing him hard and passionately. Tongue delving deeply, teeth nipping as he moaned into his brother's mouth.

Fully aroused and aching, also kneeling, Dean pulled Sam close, clamping his arm around his waist and then bowing him back. He knew how vulnerable Sam must feel in this position, and it sent a shiver of excitement straight to his cock. He ran his hands over Sam, all of him... his sides, his stomach, his ass. Squeezing, mapping out every inch of his body with his hand, and then with his mouth. 

The instant his mouth left Sam's, he felt Sam try to raise himself back up, but didn't let him. "Told you I was gonna make love to you, every part of you," he said, sliding open mouthed kisses all along Sam's abs and chest... feeling him shudder. He loved the sounds Sam made, they urged him on. His hand slowly slid to the waistband of Sam's jeans and he started to slide them down.

Sam reached out with both hands grabbing at Dean for support a moan escaping as Dean's mouth trailed along his abs and chest. Dean was going to break him in half! Sam let out a half moan half growl as his grip tightened on his brother. "Holy fuck!" the words tore from his throat, his breathing becoming more harsh. "Dean... I haven't...." he gasped at the feel of Dean's mouth and hands moving over his flesh, "taken gymnastics." he panted out the words. Feeling Dean's mouth pull away, Sam reached for Dean's head, pulling him back, "DON'T STOP!"

"I've got you," Dean said, once he dragged Sam’s jeans down to his thighs and gave Sam's back more support with one hand and cupped his ass with the other. He moved his mouth lower, sliding it back and forth in a lazy trail toward Sam's jutting cock. He felt his brother thrust his hips, knew it had to be uncomfortable, even slightly painful for him. He deserved a present for that, for being a good sport. Wetting his tongue, he licked the head of Sam's cock, giving him as much pressure as he could, and swirling his tongue around. His brother's reactions sent heat flooding through his system. He opened his mouth, and sucked on Sam's tip, smiling as his brother tried to push more of himself in his mouth but found it impossible.

His back was starting to ache slightly, but he really didn't care. Not then, not at the moment. Later he might, but right then, it wasn't even near the top of the list of things running through Sam's mind. When Dean's mouth started to get lower, Sam's hips thrust toward that inviting wet heat, almost of their own accord, causing him to let out a small hiss as back muscles resisted the angle, the movement. Sam's lips parted as he panted out his breaths. _pleaseDeangod..._

As he felt the wet heat of Dean's tongue lick he head of his cock, Sam's back arched even further as his hips rose upward. A groan of mixed pleasure and pain leaving him, teeth clenched, eyes squeezed closed. His lips parted, as ragged breaths tore from his lungs, his heart beating in his ears. Sam moaned softly, fingers tightening around Dean as he held onto him. "Dean..." his brother's name panted out as Sam opened his eyes, tried to lift his head to see, only to be unable to. His hips bucked again toward Dean's mouth. "please, Dean...ohGod!" 

Sam felt Dean's mouth leave him and was about to protest when instead, Dean helped him to straighten, turning him so that he could lay back on the bed. Sam licked his lips as he gazed up at his brother. He reached for him, digits curling around Dean's bicep, "I mean it," Sam shook his head as he looked into Dean's eyes, "don't stop." he told him softly.

Dean nodded, he knew exactly how Sam felt. "Couldn't stop if I wanted," he admitted, pulling away to take his jeans off, and kicking them off the bed. He gripped Sam's, and tugged those completely off as well, before kneeling between his legs and whispering. "Gonna kiss every inch of you. Every inch. Then I'm turning you over and starting from the beginning." 

Sam bit his lip as he slowly closed his eyes, his mind reeling at his brother's whispered promise.

Bending, he gave Sam's now leaking cock his attention, kissing, licking, squeezing him. Before they got into any sort of rhythm, he pulled off and started to kiss Sam's thigh, feeling his frustration in the way Sam’s muscles tensed under his mouth. True to his word, he kissed every inch of his leg, biting him on his inner thigh, then moved back to his cock. 

Sam couldn't believe Dean had just pulled away, just stopped sucking him. Just like that. He was such a tightly wrapped coil of tension now, as he lay there, letting Dean have his fun, kissing and biting his thigh, he was about to scream and nearly did when Dean's mouth suddenly moved back to his cock. A choked growled groan tore from his throat as his fingers twisted in the sheets, hands clutching fistfuls of the material. 

The sound Sam made almost unmanned Dean. He didn't know how he was gonna have the strength to keep this up, when he knew he was gonna fuck his brother, and that image kept wreaking havoc with his senses. Stubbornly, he clung to his promise, and pulling off Sam a second time, he kissed and licked the hell out of his other leg. When he was done, he brushed his mouth up and down Sam's shaft, but didn't want him coming just yet and knew if he sucked him again, his brother would explode in his mouth. 

His eyes closed, Sam gulped in air as he tried to calm himself down. The sensations wracking his body were driving him insane. He didn't think he'd ever wanted anyone this much. Not Jess, not Madison. No one. 

Smiling against his abs, he started to kiss a path up his body, gripping Sam's wrist when he sensed his brother was about to either push his head down to his cock or take matters into his own hands. "Every inch Sam. Every inch." 

Sam's eyes opened to gaze into green as he bit his lip again and nodded to his brother, lowering his hand back to the bed. Sam closed his eyes slowly, tried to relax. "You know...you'll probably kill me tonight, right?" Sam told him softly.

"You know this is killing me as much as it's killing you," Dean answered, sweeping his mouth down Sam's shoulder, to his arms, so fucking strong, so powerful, straining under his lips but never making a move to stop him. Dean took Sam's hand, kissing the backside first, then his palm, licking it's center. Almost without thinking, he straddled Sam's hips, and started to rock lightly, staring down at him as he sucked his finger, taking it deep in his mouth. 

Sam opened his eyes at his brother's words, swallowing hard as he gazed up at him. He turned his head, watching as Dean kissed a trail over his shoulder, his arm. Sam fought not to move, to hold still and let Dean do what he wanted. Muscles jumped and twitched under the skin, but he managed to make himself hold perfectly still otherwise. 

Sam's head turned to look down at the other place where Dean's body touched his. Down at his cock, that was now steadily leaking precome, aching he was so hard. "Dean..." his name tore from Sam's throat, as he watched Dean take his finger into his mouth, neck arching back as Dean started to suck, taking his finger deep. "Holy hell, Dean!"

His brother's anguished cry was echoed by every cell in Dean's body, screaming for more, demanding he take Sam now. Only sheer iron will and Winchester stubborness kept him from breaking. Instead, he kissed and teased Sam's other arm and hand, before dropping down for a long, lingering kiss, growling when Sam tried to roll them. He wasn't having that. "Turn over," he demanded, raising up but still straddling Sam.

Sam looked up at his brother for a long moment, lips pressed together. "Dean, I can't..." Sam huffed and nodded. Fine, he'd roll, but Dean better hurry this teasing shit up because he wasn't so sure how much longer he could stand it. 

Sam rolled over onto his stomach, readjusting as he did, head turned, arms straight out on each side as he gripped the sides of the mattress. "You better hurry this up." Sam muttered softly, closing his eyes.

"I'll get right on it." Dean blew out a heavy breath, sitting next to Sam and running his gaze over the perfect lines of his brother's body. Little brother wasn't the only one suffering here. He put his palm over Sam's ass, squeezing lightly, then moving it up and down, to his back, and down his thighs. He'd never get tired of seeing how Sam's muscles rippled, how he tensed, how he used his hands to grip anything around him when he was getting impatient. Lowering his head, he blew in Sam's ear, then started to kiss his way down his body. When he reached his ass, he paid special attention, kissing every inch, then parting his cheeks and tonguing him slowly.

Sam was moaning and groaning softly, a small smile had pulled at his lips before Dean's mouth and hands began to move lower to more sensitive areas of his body. He swallowed hard as Dean's lips moved over his ass, when he left his hands there, touching, searching, seeking. He turned his head, a groan leaving him, as he tightened his grip even more on the sides of the mattress. _Dean..._

As Sam felt his brother's tongue touch areas no one had ever touched before, Sam's head shot up off the pillow, a gasp leaving him, eyes wide. "Dean..." his voice sounded rough and strained even to his own ears. He didn't mean to, he meant it when he said it was okay, that he would do this with Dean. Didn't make it any less scary. That knowledge suddenly made Sam appreciate even more what his brother had given to him before.

Dean didn't ease up, licking Sam open a few more times, penetrating him with his tongue. When he lifted his head, his own voice was strained. "You alright?"

Sam lowered his head, forehead against the pillow as he panted out his breaths, hands sliding to the top of the mattress as he held on there instead. He nodded, "Yeah," the word left him in a rush, "I'm okay," he told Dean breathlessly.

Hesitating briefly, Dean went on to kiss and stroke the backs of Sam's thighs, then reached out to the nightstand to grab the lube. He took his time preparing his brother even when he just wanted to sink inside him, to bury himself balls deep and tell him again they belonged to each other. 

Crawling over him, he whispered in his ear. "Okay Sammy, get on your hands knees. Sliding his hands down his brother's sides, he gripped his hips and pulled him back, until their bodies fit together, his over Sam’s. 

By the time Dean told Sam to get on his hands and knees, he didn't even think twice about it. He pushed back toward his brother and that wet heat that made him ache and shiver, wanting more.

Dean moved slowly, his cock nudging at Sam's slick entrance. He groaned, restraining his urges and slowly pushing himself inside Sam, all the while, stroking his chest and abs and whispering words of encouragement. "Relax Sam, it'll be good once I'm inside... so good, I swear." Sweat dripped from his forehead. His teeth cut into his lower lip, just as a reminder to keep his control, cause there was no way he was gonna hurt his brother, no way.

Sam tensed only when he felt the head of Dean's cock at the entrance of his virgin ass. He bit his lip, turning his head to the side as he squeezed his eyes closed, waiting. He nodded at Dean's words, eyes opening slowly. Yeah, he needed to relax. Just... relax. Yeah, it was obviously easier said than done. "Just..." the word came out on a strained groan as Sam pushed back toward Dean, "do it!" Sam told him, as he thrust back again, gritting his teeth as he did, head bowed, eyes closed tight.

"Sam! Dammit..." What the fuck, did his brother think he was a saint? Well he wasn't a saint, and with Sam pushing back against him that hard, Dean tried but couldn't find the willpower to pull back. Gripping Sam's hip, he thrust hard, entering him in a single motion and groaning as his brother closed around him, squeezing him, making him ache and need. 

"You're so fucking tight Sammy," he tried not to move as his brother adjusted to him, instead kissing his ear, his neck, trying to keep the last shreds of his control to prevent himself from pounding into him. He counted his heart beats, his blood pounding at his temples, his need for friction getting sharper, stronger by the second. "Sam?"

When Dean thrust into him, Sam's mouth opened his breath stolen from his lungs, before he turned his head, bit into his own bicep, eyes squeezed closed against the burning pain that seemed to overwhelm everything else at that moment. 

Okay, that was obviously a bad idea. Little late, but lesson learned. 

Sam heard his brother talking, felt him kissing him, his ear and neck, but Sam didn't move, waiting for the burn to stop, the pain to pass. His heart was pounding in his chest so loud he was sure it was echoing in the room. His breaths panted out through his nose as Sam kept his mouth fixed on his bicep.

The sound of concern in his brother's voice made Sam finally, slowly release the mouthful of his own skin. He turned his head, nodding slowly. "I'm...okay." Sam answered him softly.

Dean knew he wasn't fine. Closing his eyes, he started to move, but just barely. Trying to angle for that one spot that could make Sam forget about the pain. It practically killed him, going this slow, but he did it... like he'd do anything for Sam. "Easy," he whispered, gripping Sam's hips, forcing himself not to push forward... not to pull out, not to slam back inside the way he needed. Forcing a calm onto himself that was at extreme odds with the needs burning inside him. "Got all the time in the world... as much time as you need," his voice croaked. 

"I'm fine!" Sam insisted through gritted teeth as he tried to move slowly for Dean.  
Suddenly Sam gasped, eyes widening for a brief moment as pleasure unlike anything he'd ever felt shot through him. He nodded his head, "Yeah, right there. Do that again," Sam told him breathlessly. And then Dean did and Sam was moaning, his head thrown back, eyes closed. "Oh holy fuck, Dean..." his head fell forward, hung as he started to move forward and back for his brother, grinding back so that Dean would hit that spot again. "More. Harder. Oh God..."

"Stop saying that... fuck Sam, you don't know what you're doing to me," Dean gritted out, making a concentrated effort to keep the pressure on Sam's sweet spot. "If you don't cut it out, I'm gonna..." he groaned as Sam pushed back again, and again. He was panting with the effort of trying to maintain control, moving back and forth, every part of him touching his brother, so keenly aware of him, of his scent, of his taste, of the sounds coming from him. Sweeping his hand to the side of Sam's face, he pulled him up and kissed the corner of his mouth, begging him. "Don't... don't make me lose control yet... don't."

Sam shifted his weight onto one arm, lifting the other to reach back, hold Dean to him, touch him, his hand running along Dean's shoulder, the side of his head as Sam arched his neck back and to the side again for another kiss. "Feels so good..." Sam panted out, before letting his hand slide away, going back to the bed as he arched back against his brother, groaning as he hit that spot again. "Oh fuck, Dean..." Sam moaned, closing his eyes, biting his lip.

"Sam!" Oh God... it was too much for Dean. He was aching and throbbing, wanting Sam so bad, he couldn't hold back after that. "Really. Need. To. Fuck." he growled, pulling half way out and then slamming himself back inside Sam, groaning out his name as he started to thrust. He'd wanted so badly to be gentle, to go slow, to break Sam in the way he deserved, but he couldn't. God help him, he couldn't... not with the firestorm raging inside him. Not with Sam so hot, so tight, his body so hard under him. So he fucked him, hard, forcing his body forward with each thrust, making the bed hit the freaking wall and not caring, not even a little, not when he was this wild... this needy, all for his brother.

As Dean started moving, Sam's eyes widened a second before he groaned, arched and thrust back against his brother, pushing back as hard as Dean pushed forward. _Shit! Fuck! Ohgodshitshitshit!_ Sam tried to brace himself on one arm, reach down and stroke himself, needing the friction, needing... God he was so needy. The bed was hitting the wall, somewhere in Sam's head he realized this, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Care whether it was bothering the poor saps unfortunate enough to get the room next door. 

A string of moans, groans and growls, poured from Sam's lips as Dean rode him hard. It was likely later he'd be sore as hell, riding in the car would be a bitch, but even that didn't matter. Not then, not when Dean was hitting that spot with each thrust and his body was caught up in the feelings that were running through it. "Dean, oh god!" Sam panted out the words as he lifted his head, grit his teeth. "Had no idea... would be... this good. Fuck!" Sam nearly yelled the last of the sentence. "Harder. Don't stop."

Stop... he couldn't if he tried. Brushing Sam's hand away, Dean closed his own fingers around Sam's cock, moving his fist up and down his shaft to the rhythm of his thrusts. "Not stopping, no fucking way. I've wanted this... you so fucking bad... so bad Sammy," he said between labored breaths. He was getting closer, the pressure building low in his belly. He fucked harder, stroked faster. "That's it, that's it... you gotta come with me, come with me..." his voice grew louder as he tensed, his back stiffening... his balls drawing up so fucking tight, he knew he was gonna blow. "Now Sam, now!"

Dean's hand closed around his cock and if it were possible he thought he got even harder, eliciting a low groan to tumble from his lips as heat shot through him to coil low in his stomach. _Ohgodohshitohfuck_

Sam's breaths panted out in near gasps with each thrust, grabbing the head board with his now free hand, Sam squeezed his eyes closed, his head tipping back as his balls drew up, heat working it's way up his body. His grip on the head board tightened as he gasped out a breath, nodded his head, babbling incoherent words to his brother. With a loud shouted growl, Sam threw his head forward as he came, hot and hard, his spunk coating his brother's hand, dripping onto the sheets below them. Sam came harder than he thought possible and the fleeting worry if a person could really pass out from an orgasm skittered through his mind as his body spasmed.

"Oh yeah!" Dean practically shouted as he exploded deep inside Sam at the same time his brother came. He held his brother tight, riding every wave of pleasure and still pumping slowly even after they were both done. He swept his hand down Sam's back, then slowly pulled out, feeling the evidence of their lovemaking drizzle down his thigh. Wiping his hand on one of their shirts on the bed, he had no energy to clean up any more. Instead, he rolled onto his side next to Sam, touching his mouth to his brother’s. "Mine now," he whispered against his lips. "All mine, Sammy," he brushed the hair off his forehead, and kissed him again, this time properly.

Sam groaned softly as Dean pulled out, collapsing onto the bed soon after, face down, not even bothering to turn his head, at least not until Dean laid next to him. Only then did he slowly turn his head, eyes heavy lidded and look over at him. Sam kissed his brother back, weakly at first, then with more passion. "Mmm..." Sam made the sound, but nothing more came out, as he moved his head slightly on the pillow, eyes closing slowly, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

Opening his eyes again, hazel looked into green, "Always was yours, Dean. Always was," he told him softly.

"Yeah. I knew that." Dean kissed him again, but suddenly pulled way as if in shock. "Oh, shit!"

Sam picked his head up from the pillow, eyes wide, ready for whatever was wrong. "What is it? What happened?" Sam asked him, pushing himself up on one arm, eyes scanning the room, as he turned his head to look behind him.

"Dammit..." Letting out a frustrated sound, Dean cursed again, and looked at Sam. "It was supposed to be a date, a perfect date. Dinner, dessert, _movie_ , then this! Dammit..." his gaze slid to the table where he had the DVD ready to pop in, and had completely forgotten about it. "This is your fault. You distracted me," he accused, still angry at himself.

"What!?" Sam asked him, confusion clear on his face as he looked from Dean to the television and the DVD on the table. Sam rolled his eyes, "Oh, Dean, give it a rest," he muttered, as his hand slid down on the bed, lowering himself back down, Sam flopped his head down on the pillow, closing his eyes again. He grinned then, "If you're gonna be freaking out over something trivial ... Blow out all these candles you lit. I swear, you're gonna start a fire." 

Dean groaned. There were too many freaking candles. He should know, he lit every single one of them cursing Sam and his girly ways. "Next time... _you_ plan the date," he muttered. "Just make sure there's pie. See how much easier I am?"

Sam chuckled and reached a hand out toward Dean, "Come 'ere."

Taking Sam's hand, Dean moved over and rested his head on his brother's chest. He could hear his strong heart beat under his ear, and with each breath, he inhaled their combined scent, smiling lazily with satisfaction. "I'll make a list next time..."

Sam chuckled softly, as he wrapped an arm around his brother. "No, man. It was just like you..." he grinned softly, "perfect." he told him, his voice lowering on the last word, his hand running slowing down his brother's back. "I wouldn't change a thing."

Dean's smile broadened, but he didn't ruin the moment by agreeing he was perfect. It was enough that Sam knew. Guess that made two of them, cause Sam couldn't be more perfect if he tried. He pressed a kiss into Sam's chest and curled up closer, pulling a blanket over them. 

The End!


End file.
